A Cost Too High
by Crimson lantern
Summary: Just now, as he stood there on his real legs, and stared down at his real hands, he dreaded his wholeness because it meant that nothing had been given... nothing had been taken... it meant that Al was gone. Written by Crimson Lantern and Skoora
1. Chapter 1

"Wha-" his lips croaked dryly as he fought to open his eyes. "Al? Al, where are you?" He reached out with his hands and pushed himself up just enough so that he was sitting. Taking a painful breath he finally willed himself to open his eyes. He was... he felt lost. Was he dead all over again? This building didn't look anything like the place where he'd been before the transmutation. He'd been underground, in the lost city, in the building where he... where he'd died. A cold sweat took him as he envisioned the gate and Alphonse... but his memories from his time spent in the darkness were so mixed and incomplete...

"Where am I!" He yelped suddenly as if he expected a reply. His golden eyes darted about the room, it was small and there was a cot. It felt like one of the many rooms he and his brother had stayed in during their travels; it was plain and cold, meant only for one night's worth of companionship. And his clothing was just as odd: he wore a solid white tunic with a lace up neck line and no other garments.

Shaking with confusion and anger he struggled to get to his feet and immediately he gasped. He could feel his weight on both feet, feel the floor beneath him.

"But... but I..." he frowned. For a short time, when Ed was brought back after Al activated the Philosopher's Stone that was his body, Ed had been whole. His auto-mail parts were gone and in their place was warm flesh and solid bone and the entire array of senses and nerves that were supposed to be there. It had been comforting and overwhelming and it had been a slap in the face as to his existence. But also it meant that no sacrifice had been made. Just now, as he stood there on his real legs, and stared down at his real hands, he dreaded his wholeness because it meant that nothing had been given... nothing had been taken... it meant that Al was gone.

"No..." he gasped and shook his head. "Damn it!" He was too angry to cry and even though he was in shock over still being alive, he knew better than to hope and pray that this was a dream. He knew better than to allow himself to bank on the slim chance that this was some lag of reality and that he was really in the gate retrieving his brother.

Moving toward the door he gripped the handle and found it locked. Didn't matter. He balled his right hand into a fist and slammed it against the wood so hard that it splintered like bark. Releasing a guttural cry, Ed pulled his hand back and saw the true difference between auto-mail and flesh: his hand, which, in the past, would have busted the door to bits, was now bleeding from every knuckle and bits of skin were hanging like torn clothes. Tears came to his eyes but he refused to release them. Instead he held his hand protectively to his chest while he reached his other hand through the hole and located the lock.

A few moments later he was outside the room and rushing away from a small Inn. He didn't know where he was and he didn't know who had brought him there. He didn't know how long had passed since he'd pressed his hands down in that final transmutation meant to bring his brother back. It felt like years and yet he knew it couldn't be.

It was bright outside and he shielded his eyes against the harsh rays. For some reason he felt like he was in the East but that didn't make any sense! He'd just been in Central! And where was everyone? Just as he wondered that though, a young boy raced across his path, followed by an emaciated dog. They seemed to be playing. Ed paused and then followed the boy.

"Hey! Hey, you!" But the boy, upon seeing him, merely raced away with renewed vigor and it was obvious as to why: the boy had red eyes and white hair... he was Ishbalan and Edward was very clearly a foreigner.

Behind him, he could hear commotion coming from the building where he'd been kept prisoner. Two large men, both of them Ishbalan, emerged and approached. One of them spoke a language Edward understood and he listened. Keeping his feet shoulder width apart he readied himself for an attack but until they made a move, he figured it best to keep still.

"You didn't have to go and break the door!" The man groaned. "You could have knocked and we would have let you out."

"Why was I in there to begin with?" Ed bit back. "Why was it locked!"

"To keep the young ones from pestering you… you've been traveling with us for the past two days. You… You don't remember anything do you?" The man blinked and sighed. "My brother and I found you in the tunnels beneath the city. We were in hiding there but ever since the death of Fuhrer King Bradley there's been talk of rebuilding so we're heading home. It was right when we decided to leave that we found you… and, in truth, we debated whether to save you or leave you to death…" He grew quiet and Ed's eyes narrowed.

"So what made you decide to drag me along with you?" He asked.

"You were naked. And you were delirious and you kept calling for you brother." He admitted. "I recognized sincerity in your voice and even though I've suffered much heartache at the hands of your brethren, I know what it's like to be separated from a brother." He glanced at the man by his side and Ed's resolve wavered for a moment and the tears that were still threatening to push through nearly succeeded.

"So you pitied me?" He said in a darker tone than he'd intended. "And where the hell are we right now anyway!"

"We're at an outpost city. It was abandoned shortly after the Ishbalan conflict and we figured it would be a safe place for us to make camp. There's not many of us traveling and we would do poorly against real bandits, so we figured staying indoors was best, especially for you. No offense, young man, but it was our belief that you were a criminal. You were crawling through the muck of the side roads, shaking and shivering. We assumed you'd escaped from somewhere, what with your tattoo and all!"

"Well thanks for the vote of confidence." He took a step back and then perked a brow, "Tattoo?"

"Yeah, on your back. It's a bunch of lines and circle and it's blood red. Seemed like something an Amestrian would brand one of their own kind with. A rite of shame, we figured." He explained but his prior tone softened. No doubt he could see the look of pain on Ed's face.

"Does it... does it look this?" He asked and then knelt shakily to the ground and drew with his left hand, the mark he'd drawn inside a suit of armor to anchor his brother's soul in this world.

"Yeah. It sure does. What does that mean?" The man cocked his head.

"It... means..." Ed could barely breathe.

_It means goodbye_.

By the time his body collapsed he was already well into unconsciousness.

* * *

Pain…

Darkness…

Whispers from an outside world…

Memories of heat and terror… colors of beloved flames… he really did love the colors, the warmth, and all the science… the transmutations. He could lose himself in the tomes that spilled the knowledge of it in ciphers. The very thought of reaching for a favorite text of his profession ignited excitement within him and he felt like, no he could sympathize with the light he saw blaze within Edward's golden eyes when he mentioned something of particular interest to the teen.

Roy felt himself smile but it felt like such a far off expression, like he wasn't quite certain where his body was. Perhaps he was afloat in the darkness. The whispers came again, faint and muffled. Maybe they had seen his body and therefore could tell him where it was so he could return to it.

As if that one thought could have yanked him from the in-between where he felt things even if they didn't quite register but his thoughts were a little clearer, it was enough. Roy Mustang felt the pain again and remembered. It was a like one of Maes's punches of reality to his face. Right in the left eye only much much worse.

For a moment he thought he saw his best friend in the corner of his eye before the darkness faded. The visage of the man seemingly telling him it wasn't time yet with a mere look. He'd always thought it strange how Maes could say so much with so little, without a word, and that he always understood.

Edward's expressions often spoke volumes… no perhaps it was his eyes… Better yet it was the combination of the two. But then sometimes Edward wasn't as secretive with his emotions as he thought. He wasn't always so well guarded…

But thoughts of the golden burst of lively shortness turned to mist and the hammer of agony pounded and stabbed through him. He felt it in his face, in both arms, his left shoulder just under his collar bone, and his left leg.

Roy gasped and even that little bit felt like hell. He tried to open his eyes, to move, but a gentle yet firm hand pressed against his stomach.

"Mn…" The sound came through gritted teeth.

"Sheska, get the doctor." That was Hawkeye's voice. He seemed to remember it somewhere in his memories, seemed to remember her sobbing and crying out for him. How different it sounded now… almost calm.

"Is he finally awake?" A sleepy voice asked from his right.

Roy moved since his eyes didn't seem to obey his commands to open no matter how hard he tried to see them.

"General, be still." Riza ordered.

"Thank goodness," Skeska breathed and scurried from the room. Roy could hear her calling for a nurse or a doctor.

Roy wet his dry lips and found that his mouth tasted awful and felt like he'd eaten a wad of cotton. A warm hand gently lifted his head and he groaned from the pain the small movement made. He felt a cup at his lips and drank. Riza cautioned slowness, cautioned mere sips where he wanted to gulp it all down and have more. To his dismay she took the water from him before he could have more than a little and eased his head back down.

"More," he whispered and to him, he sounded hoarse.

"In a moment," she promised, "You've been unconscious for a couple of days. I didn't know if you would ever wake up. Don't you ever do this to me again, Roy Mustang."

It was a warning however softly spoken and every word dripped with the bitter taste of honest, unbridled fear.

Before he could say anything or even think of some appropriate retort or even whine that she should take pity on him if only for the pain he felt, a man, by the sound of his voice and sound of his heavy footsteps, entered the room.

"General Mustang," The man said and before Roy could reply, he felt a firm grip on his wrist taking his pulse. "On a scale of one to ten, can you tell me the level of pain you are feeling?"

Was this man serious? Did he really want him to put a number to it? Even the medics on the battlefield didn't ask something so stupid. They patched up the wounded and gave them something for the pain. If he could have something for the pain, at least for a moment before it really kicked in, he could get a brief assessment of things, get his bearings and plan for whatever came next.

"10," he found himself croaking.

"Nurse," The doctor said and a pair of feet Roy hadn't noticed shuffled off.

"How bad?" Roy asked, wanting to get to the heart of it. He could remember some injuries but they were a blur now that he was awake. He knew it couldn't be good, knew some would be worse than others, but he also knew that no matter how bad off he was physically, there was much more to deal with.

"And why can't I open my eyes?" That was the next pressing issue for he was awake and he'd like to see whom he was speaking to, see how many people were in the room, see where the next danger might be coming from. Yes, it was fair to say that he was beginning to feel paranoia and in remembering, in his mind's alertness, and even the throbbing, biting pain, he was just about to slip into his most guarded self. The place he went during the war to protect himself when most vulnerable. But he needed to see.

"You won't be going anywhere anytime soon, if that's what you are getting at. You've sustained several deep gashes to both arms and one to your left leg all of which have required stitches. The muscle damage alone will require several weeks of downtime and therapy. You were lucky with the saber wound to your left shoulder. It was rather nasty but a clean cut and easy to sew up. However, I am not going to dumb it down or soften it up for you, General-"

"Doctor, please," Riza interrupted nervously.

"He's a grown man and after what he's been through, I think he can handle it. Besides, it's never been my manner to drag it out. It is better to get the harsh blow out of the way so recovery can begin sooner." The doctor said with curt honesty but Roy felt the man gently pat his hand to portray some sense of sympathy.

Before Roy could demand they get on with it the Doctor did.

"Your left eye is gone, General Mustang. There was no saving it, the bullet decimated it, and as it stands, you are a very lucky man to be alive. I've done what I could to repair the damage to your cheekbone. It wasn't totally shattered, however, it's enough that I had to do a little reconstructive surgery. I won't lie, it's not going to be pretty and you will have some scaring but as it heals it will look much better.

"Now, I've wrapped your head and covered both eyes on purpose. I think you will do much better for a day or so if you just rest and not put a strain on the right eye. Then we will take it slow. You'll probably have some head aches for awhile even after the pain from your missing eye subsides. That'll be from the right eye compensating. You'll have some problems with depth perception as well. But knowing you, you will adapt very quickly and be causing trouble for my nurses sooner than you should be."

Roy recognized this man now, Doctor Adam Rousseau, the Chief of Staff at Central's Military Hospital, also the best surgeon for miles. He supposed it was comforting knowing this man had been the one to operate on him, to keep him alive, and even try to lift his spirits with light joke of his womanizing… but the news prior struck his heart and mind the most. So much so he found himself gripping the sheets.

For Roy, he knew he could live with scars, hell, some women thought they were sexy. He knew he could live with recovery periods and therapy to get him back on his feet. He could live with many harrowing things but to lose apart of himself… That was something altogether different. Oh he knew he would adapt, he had to, but just for a moment, maybe even several now and several later, he was in shock.

A missing eye meant more than just loss of depth perception… It meant loss of half his peripheral vision. It meant people could sneak up on him from the left and he'd never see them. It meant having to retrain himself alchemically and defensively. Driving would be a problem… so many things would have to change or alter…

Roy swallowed and took a deep breath. He could do this… He _must_ do this, he had to, one foot in front of the other...

It was just an eye and others had lost a lot more and moved forward with a lot less, he told himself. If Edward Elric could live with an auto-mail arm and leg and his brother live as a soul attached to a suit of armor, and still run rampant all over the country to achieve their goals, then he could lose an eye and do the same.

The thought of the blonde alchemist halted him a moment. When was the last he'd seen of either of the brothers, together or otherwise…? A new sense of panic began to well within him as he realized that the last he'd seen of Edward was an odd, morose sort of farewell. He didn't like it, not now. Before, he'd been alright with it due to the path he'd been on, the thing he'd had to accomplish, but now.

"Hawkeye, where are the boys?"

"Edward and Al-"

"Yes, where are they? Have they checked in? Have you seen them?" He demanded, interrupting her.

"N-no, I haven't heard from them… My focus has been on you." There was a hint of surprise colored shame in her reply, even a little confusion as if his asking for the Elric brothers at such a time were unexpected.

Roy's hand shot out, swimming in the air until her slender hand clasped over it. He griped her tight.

"Find them, find out what happened. They are my responsibility. They still need our help, Riza. We can't leave them on their own."

"Alright," She breathed, "Alight… Sheska, find Lt. Colonel Armstrong and tell him to find the Elric brothers."

"Riza," Roy began.

"My first priority is you, Sir. Don't worry, Armstrong will find them and keep them safe." Her hand shifted until she held his.

Roy shook his head, "I want to see them."

"Soon, I promise. You and Ed will be bickering soon enough and we'll have to find a home for another of Al's stray cats."

"I kept the one." Roy whispered, "So Al wouldn't have to say goodbye. He doesn't know, neither of them do."

"I know," She replied, "Sheska, would you mind stopping by my house as well as the General's to feed our pets?"

"I wouldn't mind at all." The books worm of a girl Maes had hired, replied.

"That's quite a turn around; I thought you hated me, Sheska." Roy said dryly.

Dr. Rousseau decided to cut in. "You know, I don't usually promote this since some animals aren't so house broken, but pets have proven to be therapeutic. You should bring General Mustang's cat."

The General in question almost protested but he kind of wanted something familiar and soft. Something he could touch and draw some sense of comfort from. But all of that was neither here nor there as Sheska left and someone else entered. None of that mattered when his body reminded him of the flood of throbbing agony pulsating throughout.

He felt the tiny stick of a needle, the push of something entering his veins, and knew it was pain medication. He also knew he didn't have much time.

"Hawkeye, what's the status of things?"

"A lot has happened, mostly confusion, but the country isn't in total disarray. We will not be arrested but…" Her voice grew farther and farther away as the meds kicked in and drew him back into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

"So where will you go?" Caden, the elder brother, the one who could speak Ed's tongue, asked of the young alchemist.

They were sitting together in the main room of the house and now at last, when darkness fell, did the entire traveling group allow themselves to be revealed. Six children, most of them orphans, the two brothers, and three other adults had formed a miniature village of sorts and all of them were thrilled with the prospects of the possible rebuilding. It had taken some time for the words to sink in, but Ed, too, was relieved to know that the Fuhrer was dead. It would feel wrong to be happy over something like that, but the Fuhrer wasn't really human was he…

"Um… I guess I'll go home." He replied to the man as he was passed a canteen of water. They'd been very kind to him ever since he passed out earlier in the day. They'd even bandaged up his hand and given him new clothes. That must have been a great sacrifice for them as they were traveling with hardly any possessions to begin with. As he sat there, wearing a blue, sleeveless tunic, tan leather pants and thick soled sandals, he blushed in shame that he had nothing to offer them back. If he returned to Central he could withdraw money for them but how would he find them again, what point would be in that? He would do better to donate money to the Ishbalan cause, or maybe he could just journey onward with them and help them in the entire effort of rebuilding. The idea appealed to him actually…

"I don't really know what to do; I don't have any plans…"

He had no purpose anymore. Perhaps it was the dull sting of his hand, wrapped in fresh fabric that kept him from fully sinking into despair over the fact that everything he'd worked for in life was now gone and meant nothing. Home was where he wanted to be, but he didn't necessarily want to face Winry or Granny, because then things would be real to him, and he was terrified of the realization of loneliness that had yet to come.

"Well, you're welcome to travel with us if you choose." Caden half shrugged but offered a sincere expression.

"Thank you. I…" he sighed and looked at the children, some of them were versed in his language and had asked him about his hair and about his eyes, also about the tattoo on his back, "I'll think about it." He saw one child in particular grinning at the prospects.

That night the small group was on the move again. It was easier to travel in the night time, less chance of running into bandits and also it was much cooler. Edward refrained from using his Alchemy though there were times it would have come in handy – fixing a busted up shoe lace, or repairing a leaky canteen – because so far they had accepted him and he didn't necessarily want to find himself cast out so soon. Their companionship at the moment was proving to be a much needed distraction.

They moved by foot and it was proving to be a strange sensation for Edward as his left leg felt brand new and, as a result, rather weak. Frowning at his discomfort he kept shut and when the strange feelings and the guilt and horror all became too much he would bite the inside of his cheek so hard it pinched and bled.

Hours and hours passed and Ed spoke off and on with the children who could converse with him, but his responses were never very long. When the kids pried too much, Caden would remind them to leave the young man alone, but Ed told him it was okay.

By the time dawn arrived, his legs were tired, and the left leg was burning. They made camp on the border of the Central Region. There were some buildings around – something like the outpost compound of the previous day – only this place was even more desolate and deteriorated. There was another difference: there were others, Ishbalans and also some blue-clad Military men, some of which the young Alchemist vaguely recognized.

Ed's palms began to sweat. Both palms. With a furrowed brow, Edward sulked to the back of the group and shook his head to toss some of his blond strands before his face. It was guilt that prompted him to do this. He couldn't face them… couldn't face _him_.

* * *

When Roy Mustang awoke again it was to something small, cold, and wet dotting his face. He felt four small paws drilling their, what should be minuscule, weight into his chest. He'd always wondered why it was the kitten, for as small as it was, could feel so heavy when standing on him and why four small paws felt like four pens boring into him.

"Mew," it said as if it knew he'd come to. It licked his chin with its rough little tongue and Roy lifted his hands, patting the air until they found the kitten's little frame. He'd named it Livi for no particular reason other than that he'd liked the name, couldn't remember where he'd heard it, probably some old fling from his younger years, not that he was really _that_ old.

The kitten, Livi, began to purr the moment he touched her soft, orange-tabby fur. Despite her not being a dog, she was a pretty damned good cat. She killed bugs if they ever got in the house, didn't tear too much up, came when called, slept at the foot of his bed or on his chest at night, and even greeted him when he came home. Yes, she was a good kitten and she was here now, being just as good and in turn, he felt a little better, comforted by her presence. It was funny how that worked and he didn't quite understand it. But it didn't matter so long as he could hold her for just a little bit and pet her the rest.

The rustling of fabric to his left caught his attention and he turned his head. "Hawkeye?"

"Yes, are you hungry or thirsty?" she asked softly.

"Have you heard anything on the Elrics?" There was no use putting off any news with small 'can I get you anything' banter when what he wanted most, more than anything, was to see that the boys were alright.

Riza sighed, "If I tell you, will you eat a little something?"

"Hawkeye," He warned quietly then thought better of it since she might get it in her head to shoot him or hold him at gun point. He could still feel things even if he couldn't see at the moment. "Yes, I will eat something."

"Lt. Colonel Armstrong sent some people he could trust out looking for them. So far there have only been a few confirmed reports of Edward wandering around the north and eastern part of Central naked and dazed. The latest report from a shop keeper is that Edward was picked up by a group of Ishbalan's leaving central on an eastern road. The shop keeper said from what he could see, they wrapped him up in a blanket and carried him along with them. Armstrong has set out on his own to get Edward and will call in his progress." She reported.

So Edward was alive… Roy breathed a sigh of relief internally and thanked whatever higher power there was in the universe for it. However, relief being what it was was half diminished by news of Edward's condition. He'd seen Edward in several states of banged up and beaten even close to death just the once, but never had he seen the strong willed alchemist naked and dazed… Something was terribly wrong and that Riza hadn't mentioned Alphonse at all… No, they must have just been separated, that had to have been it. Edward would never leave his brother of his own volition unless things were alright.

Roy wet his lips, "And Al? Any news of him?"

Riza was quiet a moment before replying, "No, Sir, no one has seen or heard from him. Havoc, Falman, and Breda are out looking for him."

He didn't like that news; it sent a knife of panic straight to his heart, making it ache and clench. And he felt helpless, so very helpless, almost worse than when… when Hughes had been killed.

"Tell them not to come back until they can bring the boys to me." He breathed through gritted teeth though his hands were so very gentle to Livi's small body. In fact he cuddled the kitten just for an anchor, for comfort that everything would turn out okay. It had too; he wanted to show her to Edward and Alphonse. Al would be so surprised and excited. Ed would act like he didn't really care but deep down, in those amber depths, Roy would see how relieved the blonde would be.

"Yes, Sir," Riza replied and he heard her rise from her seat. "And now, you need to eat something. You'll be no good to either of those boys if you are weak. They are going to be startled and upset just seeing you as you are. Don't make it worse for them."

* * *

"Why is your hair so long?" A little boy asked Edward. Presently Edward was sitting at the back of the makeshift tent, trying to keep as far away from the blue uniforms as possible. Honestly it was a relief to know that the military was present and, from what Edward could tell, helping them. So far he'd seen several soldiers assisting with wounded and even providing meal rations and fresh water.

Lifting his head he looked at the little boy. "I don't know. It just… my dad wore his hair long and…" he paused and thought about how that should have been a reason for him to cut it in the beginning. "I liked it longer; it was easier to pull back out of my face."

"So why are you keeping it in your face right now?" He prodded.

"Because…" Ed was trying to think of something that would satisfy the kid's curiosity but he quieted down when he heard commotion outside; soldiers making a line, the clang of their boots on the dusty ground. What the hell? Was something wrong?

"Wait here," he told the little boy and then crawled forward to peer through the flaps of the tent. He could see a line of soldiers all standing erect and saluting, but he couldn't see who they were saluting. Suddenly another child's face appeared at the opening of the tent.

"He's right here!" She giggled. "Long blond hair and pretty eyes, just like I said," she grinned in innocence. She thought this was some sort of game… she didn't know how cold Ed's blood turned when she announced his presence to the world.

"Wait-" He called and backed up, but he couldn't get out of reach. Suddenly a very large hand attached to a very large arm clad in blue, reached into the tent and clasped onto Edward's tunic. With an urgent yank Ed was pulled forward and then suspended in mid air but the outrageous strength of the Major.

There was a moment of silence as Ed, blinking in surprise and in protection against the sunlight, and Armstrong, his brow furrowed deeply and his mustache twitching, merely regarded each other. Ishbalans and other military personnel held their breaths, no doubt expecting a true confrontation.

"Edward Elric." Armstrong spoke in a deep voice. It wasn't a question and Ed, reaching up to clutch at the large wrist, flashed the man a pathetic scowl. Immediately the hard face of the Major waned and was replaced with deep concern and large tear drops formed at the corners of his eyes. Pulling the boy to his chest he hugged him tightly until Ed had to growl,

"Can't breathe, Major!"

"Forgive me, I'm just relieved to find you alive and in such good health, the first reports spoke of you wandering around naked!" he nodded and let the young man back down to the ground.

"So I've heard." Edward grumbled, and then winced as he turned just a bit so that he could keep his right arm hidden from the Major's sight. "Caden and his brother took me in and found me some clothes…" he said and nodded at the Ishbalan who stood nearby observing the situation. Deep down Edward apologized to the man – it probably wouldn't sit well with Caden knowing that he'd not only saved an Amestrian, but a member of the military as well. Despite the reparations underway for the Ishbalans it was going to take a very, very long time before they completely trusted or even tolerated those blue uniforms that had so efficiently destroyed their homes.

Looking toward the red-eyed man, Armstrong nodded. "Your kindness will not go unrewarded; I'll have my men arrange for compensation."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. If you truly want to reward me, just see to it that my people have food and water while they make camp here." He replied; his expression still relaxed.

"Consider it done." Armstrong nodded again and then dipped down for a moment, catching Edward by surprise and slinging him over his shoulder. "Come on, Edward, I have a vehicle waiting to take us back to Central."

"Wha-" Ed gasped. "Put me down, Major! I can walk, damn it!" In truth he wanted to escape and maybe that's why Armstrong continued to hold onto him.

"I'm sorry, Edward, but I've been given firm instructions." He spoke as they made their way to the car. A young officer stood beside the vehicle and when they were close enough to smell the oil off the contraption, the officer opened the back door and stepped aside. Presently the blond alchemist was tossed, gently, into the back seat. Before he could even get his bearings the Major slipped inside as well. He closed the door and unrolled the window, "Before we take off for Central I want you to get on the wire and send a message to the Brigadier General. Tell him, I've got his boy."

"His … 'boy'…" Edward whispered and wrinkled his nose.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three:

"General…" Riza said softly and he felt her hand on his. Roy wanted to ignore her and run back to the sleep that still had hold of him. Whatever she had to say could wait. He was in pain again, the medication wearing off, and if he slept it wouldn't be so bad.

"General, Lt. Colonel Armstrong and Edward are here." She tried again with more explanation. "And the nurse with more medication for you."

Medication…Edward…_ Edward_... The boy was alive and here, finally here but in what condition? Was he hurt? Roy perked up, taking a deep breath and winced from the pain. Livi, the small cat stirred on his chest and he felt Riza lift her from him.

Some one with soft footfalls came close and he felt the nurse checking his vitals. Roy pushed the nurse's hand away, "Could you give us a moment?" He asked, wishing he could see, wishing he could assess the situation properly.

"Of course," The woman, a sweet voiced creature said. He thought he recognized her voice but couldn't be sure. She left them, closing the door.

"Who is in the room?" Roy asked quietly, he didn't want unwanted ears overhearing anything.

"Armstrong, Edward, and I, it's alright to talk." Riza replied in kind, soft tones. Her hand rested on his again for added assurance. "Should I have Armstrong stand guard with Havoc?"

"No," Roy said and groaned as he tried to sit up more. Riza was there to assist, putting an extra pillow behind his back and another behind his head and Roy wondered why there was a lack of noise from Edward. He thought there would have been something but perhaps the young man was in shock or maybe he'd been told of his superior's condition before arriving. Either way Roy hated it and hated more than anything that he couldn't see Edward for himself.

"Ed, come here." He wouldn't have asked if he could see. He knew Ed didn't like to be touched, didn't like to get too close to anyone. There was a moment's hesitation and then a hushed word from Armstrong before movement. Roy listened for the familiar uneven footfalls and when he only heard two normal feet approaching, he shifted uncomfortably. Still he reached out, feeling the air blindly for the blonde alchemist.

His fingers touched hair first and they remembered the texture well. Edward had oddly soft hair for a young man. Roy remembered the moment he'd dared to touch Ed's blonde tresses. Edward had been sleeping in the infirmary one of the times he'd come back from a mission banged up. It was interesting that he'd left his hair down when he usually kept it braided or pulled back…

Roy could have run his fingers through that hair for a good hour, just for comfort but his or Edward's he wasn't certain and it was silly to think that Edward might need comfort… unless he was injured and then he doubted that Edward would let him. For that matter he was surprised that Edward was letting him get away with it thus far.

Still the General investigated further and found the all too familiar fabric of a uniform. That wasn't right. Edward would never don the Army garb for anything. Not even when Roy asked and nearly threatened. Of course Roy had just wanted to see Edward in something other than those black clothes he always wore… He sniffed the air because something else peculiar and wrong about this entered his mind.

He smelled… no oil, there wasn't even the faintest trace of the scent of oil and there always was when near Edward. Fullmetal smelled of oil and sweat or soap and oil, the oil from his auto-mail…

Roy pulled his hands back as if he'd been burned, anger filling him "This is not Edward!" He turned his head toward where he knew Riza was, "Did you think that because I can't see I wouldn't notice? Did you think you could slip a stand in by me? Why the hell would you do something like this?" He shouted.

Ed stepped back and lowered his eyes to the ground.

When he had first arrived at Central he asked Armstrong for a uniform so that no one else would see how deformed he was – what an odd way for him to view himself considering that for the first time in years he was finally whole. So far the only person to know of Ed's arm and leg was the Major, or rather, Lieutenant Colonel, and Edward wanted to keep it that way. He couldn't answer questions about it yet, he didn't want to tell people how he'd failed. He knew if he let such words cross his lips he would have to face the reality that he was all alone in the world and the one person he truly loved was dead.

Even when Armstrong had asked about his body, he'd refused to talk about it and thankfully the large emotional man let it be, but Ed knew Mustang and Hawkeye would be a bit more persistent, thus the uniform and bandaged hand to hide him from their eyes.

_Eyes_.

That wasn't the case with Roy… Roy was… was he blind! Armstrong had mentioned that Roy wasn't in the best of shape but not for an instant did Edward think that the sturdy man would be bedridden, wrapped in gauze, and left sightless and vulnerable.

All of those worries and wonders had faded away though when the man asked him to come forward and then touched his hair and felt him searching to know him. Ed shivered at the soft touches feeling embarrassed by them and even flushing a little. It bothered him to be touched and yet he didn't push the General away or tell him to stop. He owed Roy that much, he supposed, the right to touch that which he could not see.

But then the General accused Ed of being false and all the young alchemist could think was, _you're right_.

Heat flooded his face as he stared down at the ground. Before Riza or Armstrong could say anything to correct the man's words and assumptions, Edward made a dash for the door. As far as Ed was concerned, if the General didn't want to believe it was him, then he didn't have to!

"Edward!" Armstrong bellowed and moved quickly to block the smaller man from the door.

"Heh, you _heard_ what the General said: I'm not Edward. So there's no reason for me to keep pretending." He said bitterly but with a great deal of fire behind his words. Glancing back at Roy who still seemed confused and looked utterly betrayed, Ed grumbled, "Probably thought I was a girl, the way he was fondling my hair."

The sound of his voice, the attitude and almost but not quite hidden pain… It _was _Edward but something was wrong, different in the sense of something ominous and something very significant was missing… This wasn't right, none of this was. His scent, the fabric of a uniform, his hair left down. Roy wished he could tear the gauze from his face and have a look for himself, to see what was amiss…

Roy had to know what it was for Edward was his subordinate, his friend. They hadn't always seen eye to eye or gotten along, they'd fought and bumped heads, and heaven's knew he'd manipulated Edward a time or two with good intention, even teased the young man to see how spastic and riled he'd get, but he still considered the bright young alchemist his friend. And as a friend, he'd looked after Edward and his brother many a time and once again it was his duty and right to do so again.

But time and the pains from his injuries were working against him and while the pain was barely tolerable now, it wouldn't be too long before it would be too much to bear.

"That wasn't fair, Ed." Riza chided sternly. She was almost motherly about it.

Roy sighed, letting out a soft groan as he shifted once again in the bed to attain more comfort. "I'll let it slide for now. Hawkeye, take a break and get something to eat. I know you haven't left me for days. Armstrong and Havoc will make sure Edward doesn't bolt." He turned his unseeing face toward where he'd heard Edward speak. "Come sit, Ed. Sounds like we need to have a talk."

"Roy-" Riza began.

Roy held up his hand to hush her, "I'll be fine, I've got Ed to make sure I don't do something stupid."

"That's not what I am worried about." She muttered.

Roy smirked, "We're really not that terrible and leave the cat."

Ed waited until everyone had left before he moved from his place near the door and sat down with a soft thud into the chair beside Mustang's bed. He looked down at his bandaged hand and gingerly ran his left hand over it, feeling all the swollen places. How could he have been so stupid? Of course his hand would end up like this after such a stupid display of ignorance. He never thought he'd think it, but not having auto-mail was going to be a real pain in the ass.

Swallowing at last he lifted his eyes to see Roy and a small orange tabby cat pawing cutely at the man's hospital gown covered chest. "Cute cat. Looks like one of the kittens Al used to-" his voice cracked and he looked away. Completely changing topics he scoffed, "What the hell did you mean when you said that I wasn't Edward?"

Roy gently stroked the small feline until she curled up on his lap. "Her name is Livi and it is one of the kittens Al found. I was supposed to take it if you won the duel during your state alchemist re-certification. Since I gave you the information you'd been looking for I thought it was only fair that I take the cat too…" He sighed and grit his teeth against the pain.

"I don't have a lot of time here, Edward, so let's get to heart of the matter. First, could you pour me a glass of water and hand it to me and while you do I'll answer your question but in exchange you have to answer mine. As you can tell, I can't… see… I've worn a uniform for years, more than I care to admit. I know the feel of the fabric, the sound it makes, how it feels against the flesh… I find it a bit strange that you are wearing one. Secondly, you don't smell the same." He paused smirking to himself and how bizarre and almost creepy that sounded.

"You always carried the scent of oil whether you'd just stepped off the train, been from a fight, or had a bath. It was always faint but there never the less. It's gone now…" He paused again and reached out, searching for the alchemist with a sudden thread of excitement and hope, "Does this mean… Did you and Alphonse succeed?"

A smile began to quirk at his lips, despite his pain, the horrors he'd seen and agony in his heart, if Ed and Al got what they had fought so hard for, it would soothe his tattered soul and being. He could make peace with everything if only the Elric's had gotten something out of this. And when the bandages were removed, he'd finally be able to see the proof of it, see Alphonse in his human body and Edward without the auto-mail. They could live normal lives again, start over, and have a real chance… In that, Roy could take or face anything. Their hope was his hope now.

"It wasn't all for nothing? Tell me, Ed; tell me one of us achieved our goal after everything?"

Ed grimaced and glanced at the door wondering if Havoc and Armstrong were really on the other side. His insides felt like they were on fire as he listened to Roy talk about the smell of oil. It didn't even strike Edward as perverted, no; rather it just made him nostalgic and guilt ridden. And then the General mentioned Alphonse. That kitten… that little girl kitten was the one Al had wanted so badly to keep. Ed remembered it. He'd given it a nice basket as they left it on the street. When the hell had Roy gone and retrieved it? And why did that make him happy and angry at the same time.

Shaking his head, he swallowed the lump in his throat. "General…" he began, "I…" but he couldn't continue in words just then. Instead he stood then slowly reached up and began unbuttoning his uniform. It was slow-going and difficult because his right hand was not only unfamiliar to him but also injured. Breathing shallowly he finished with the buttons and removed the blue over coat.

"Heh, you're right about it being strange for me to wear a uniform. I hate these things. But I didn't have any other clothes and I didn't want… I didn't want you to see…" Ironic, Ed thought, since the General was blind.

With a sigh he let the coat drop to the floor and then un-tucked the white buttoned shirt. Again he went down and unbuttoned it slowly meticulously. Finally, he shrugged it down and off of his body. His hair tickled his back and shoulders. Stepping closer to the bed he reached out with his left hand and clasped Roy's wrist. He guided the man's fingers to his face so that he could have a frame of reference, then he led the man's inquisitive fingers down his throat and over to his right shoulder. From there he released the man's wrist and allowed Roy to explore the new flesh on his own.

"My leg's the same way." He breathed and chewed the inside of his cheek.

Roy bit his lip against the pain caused by moving his arm but he bore it because Edward was letting someone, him of all people, touch him. Roy had often wondered if Edward had suffered from some kind of mental disorder where he couldn't stand to be touched. Some people were like that and while there were no names for it yet, there were studies being done on it, or so the periodical scientific journals of Amestris stated. And other times he'd decided that Edward just didn't like to be touched for fear of getting too close to another human being out of fear of losing them. There could have been a dozen reasons, they didn't matter. Not in this one tiny moment.

He didn't let his fingers stay too long on the young man's face or neck and when he felt the soft warmth of flesh and bone and muscle under that very skin instead of the cold steel of auto-mail, it gave him pause. Was it real? Had they…

The wounded General pulled Edward closer and with both hands he gently gripped and felt the human arm from shoulder all the way to fingernails. It was a miracle! A thing he barely dared to think possible and might have cast all hope aside if not for the Elric's determination. Yet it had happened and he was filled with a happiness not for himself but for the young man before him.

Roy smiled, moving his hand back to Ed's shoulder. He didn't know what to say other than, "How does it feel? I'll bet it will take some getting used to and Alphonse… We'll have to call Gracia and ask her to make a feast to celebrate." Then he smirked, "So is Al taller than you?"

He'd almost shied away as the man pawed at him, happily feeling him all over. It was overwhelming not only because the skin was new and unusual for Edward, but also because of 'who' was touching him. Suddenly he reflected on the way the General had known that his body was different from the sounds and smells and, taking in the way the man was feeling him now, a single word formed in his mind: pervert.

Grimacing, he was about to pull away when Roy spoke to him and mentioned Al… mentioned celebrations… it was too much.

Yanking his arm back, he angrily reached down to and grabbed his shirt from the floor. "I wouldn't know." He bit and hastily pulled the cloth over him, covering his disgrace from a blind man. He missed buttons as his fingers fumbled with his shirt but once it was mostly put together he grabbed the over coat. Pausing for a moment, holding the dark blue fabric, he ground his teeth together and wrung the coat between his hands. His heart felt like it was being ripped into pieces. Little flashes of memory came back to him. He remembered Rose and he remembered drawing one last circle. The red on the floor and his arms turned blue as the transmutation began and then… and then… he saw his brother.

With a choked sob, he gripped the coat so tightly that his hands ached from the strain. "He's gone," he croaked out, barely above a whisper. "He's gone… I couldn't… I couldn't bring him _back_." His breathing sped up as he tried to no avail to keep himself together, to keep tears from falling.

Shaking, he stood there. Selfishly he was rather glad that Mustang was blind so that he couldn't see how pathetic he was, couldn't see failure etched upon every pore and more than obvious in his ill begotten limbs. It was wrong! All of it! He shouldn't have limbs, hell, he shouldn't even be alive. He was the older brother, he was supposed to take care of his younger sibling and he hadn't!

"I w-would rather have auto-mail if it meant I could have him back." He groaned sadly as tears pushed though. It had been so long since he'd really cried – when he'd first been brought back from the gate, he woken in tears, but this time was different. Before, he'd asked Rose why he was crying and in his ignorance, grief turned to panic, but now there was nothing left for him and so he clasped the blue coat to his chest and sobbed.

W-what? It was the most prevalent thought in Roy's mind. He couldn't take a breath, couldn't put his mind in motion, couldn't get beyond Edward's words… Alphonse Elric was…

Dead…

It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were both supposed to be whole, alive, happy and ready to move on with their lives, not like this. Not one alive and whole while the other was…

The General's heart already broken from the loss of his best friend, the knowledge of the Fuhrer being a monster that he had to destroy, the sight of the same Fuhrer killing his own child, snapped and shattered for Edward's pain and suffering. There were a lot of things Roy Mustang could bear but this, hearing Edward cry in such agony… He'd seen the boy cry only once before in his own terror a couple of years ago and again with that little girl, Nina Tucker, had been killed, but this was far too different. This was on a whole new level.

Roy wet his lips searching for something to say but there were no words. He couldn't tell Edward to suck it up and use it to make him stronger. He couldn't tell him that this was life and there was nothing anyone could do about it and he didn't think even the most profound sorry could ease or soothe him. But he had to say something, anything.

"You'll have to tell me what happened, Edward… I can guess that he must have given himself for you in some way, you two were always so devoted, and I can't even imagine…" He reached out for Edward once more and his fingers met fabric, he tugged, gasping in pain as he pulled the young alchemist closer to him. He expected struggle – that was all Edward seemed capable of inwardly and outwardly on most days – but still, no matter the pain it would cause him physically, it would never compare to that of what Edward was feeling now.

Roy wrapped his arms around Edward, holding him firmly yet gently, "Let it out, Ed, its okay…" He said softly and knew what he had to do, accepted or not. "I'll be out of here in a couple of days, Ed. You're coming home with me, I have an extra room. Riza and I will take care of you; take care of everything whether or not you want us too. So don't worry, just let it out."

Through his grief he was only vaguely aware of Roy clutching him and pulling him close. Pressing his face against the man's chest he obeyed, just like a damn dog with his owner, he obeyed. He let it out. All the tears he'd been holding in, the sorrow he'd felt whenever Al was in trouble, the strangled bitterness and horror he'd kept hidden when he killed the Homunculus that he himself had created from his own mother, the fury he'd felt in facing his father and then seeing him again on the other side of the gate only to learn the truth about him. The sensation of falling over and over again as the Edward from that other world passed away and then sensation of falling into darkness when Envy, Ed's big brother, punched a hole straight through his chest. He'd died. Edward had died and he knew how cold and frightening it was to slip away until the pain was replaced with nothingness. Was that what Alphonse had felt, too, when he used himself up and brought Edward back from the gate in an exchange of life for a life?

Sobbing, he shook his head. "N-no…" he choked on tears and saliva. He couldn't breathe and he wished he would just pass out already because as he stood half stood, half leaned into Roy, he could almost see his brother, almost hear his words… Something had happened in the gate when Edward attempted the final transmutation, but he couldn't remember it just yet. All he had were glimpses of Al and the sensory memory of his brother drawing something on his back.

"G-General, I…" he gasped on the point of hyperventilating, "I can't…t-talk about it yet…" he tried to pull away but found the man's grip to be strong despite his weakened condition. "Dammit!"

Ed crumbled a little even hazarded to reach out his left hand and cling to the hospital gown. He sobbed freely for several long moments and as he finally calmed himself to mere sputters and hiccups, he couldn't help but nuzzle his face toward a dry patch of Mustang's gown. He pressed his flushed cheeks to the fabric and felt the warmth and the rise and fall of the General's chest. In all honesty he couldn't believe the weakness he was showing, the terror he was confessing to this man.

Mustang had fulfilled many roles in Ed's life, even taking on the role of father figure a time or two, but never had the man been a soft consoler. Even when Edward had cried in the past, Roy had been harsh with him, told him to move forward, told him that hardships were to be expected when one chose a career with the military, and so to hear the man say that he would take care of him, that he wanted Edward to even live with him…

"I f-feel sick…" he whispered and then pulled back quickly almost stumbling. He managed to escape Roy's arms but the momentum of his actions caused him to fall to the floor. Clutching his stomach he winced in pain. "You really shouldn't worry about me, General… after all, you're blind now. You need to worry about yourself." He said this all through clenched teeth. He grunted at the pain in his gut and the pain his shoulder, almost as if the auto-mail was freezing up on him – the same pain, the same discomfort.

Roy heard the fall and moved to get up, forgetting that he couldn't see, forgetting that he was in pain and that his pain had intensified. Before he could do more than throw the blankets off him, the door burst open.

"Stop!" It was Riza and by smell of smoke, Havoc as well. "Don't move from that bed, Roy Mustang!" She shouted. He heard her move, heard Havoc move.

"Get him a nurse and something to throw up in." Roy barked orders of his own. He heard the fall of Havoc's boots as they ran from the room and receded down the hall way. He reached out, wishing he could tear the bandages from his face to see what was going on. If only he could see!

"The General will be alright after a couple of weeks." He heard Riza say, "Physically anyway. But you… Don't be such a child now, Ed, not when we've been looking after you all this time. It would be cruel for you to deny us now."

Riza's hands were on him, and though he wanted to pull away, his stomach was about to lurch. Reaching up, he covered his mouth to try and keep control of himself. He shook his head as new tears began to fall. This was embarrassing, horribly embarrassing. He felt like he was a child again with a figurative mommy and daddy standing over him, deciding what was best without really asking his opinion. They were right of course, Ed needed to be taken care of… he couldn't survive very well on his own. All those years, it had been Al who took care of him; Al and Winry and Pinako. And then it had been Roy and Riza and all the others who comprised their strange little military family.

Edward had once been under the impression that he was an independent person who could look after himself and his baby brother, but right then, as he writhed in Hawkeye's embrace, trying to hold in vomit and tears, he realized that he'd been wrong. He was pathetic. Why the hell had Al given himself up for Ed's life? And what happened when Ed went into the gate to retrieve his brother? The memory of that moment was still vague and what was more puzzling to him was the blood red tattoo on his back. Why! How was it even there? It didn't make sense!

Presently Havoc returned with a bucket and some wash cloths and just in time. As soon as the bucket was in place, he let go and retched all that he'd taken in over the past twenty fours hours that had yet to be digested. Again his shoulder flared up in pain and even his leg, the meaty part of his thigh that once held an auto-mail port, it ached like needles pricking deeply.

Letting out a strangled yelp he finished vomiting and then used one of the wash cloths that Havoc had brought along with him to wipe at his mouth and chin.

Exhausted from lack of sleep, lack of real nutrition and the shock of grief and also of seeing the General in such a condition, he went limp in Riza's arms and just lay there, breathing deeply. He muttered off and on, whispering of how he missed Alphonse, how he'd never forgive himself for not being strong enough to save him. It was the exhaustion talking for he normally would have kept such angst driven guilt to himself and allowed it to stew and fester within him until it hardened him.

As he muttered, the First Lieutenant cooed to him and hushed him. She pet his hair away from his face and Ed leaned into it, welcoming the soft touches, half imagining in his delirious state that it was his mother caressing him.

"Are you really going to stay with the General in his home?" He whispered breaking from the mom-fantasy for a moment.

She replied softly, "Yes. I want to be there to assist him in any way I can. He's not in good shape."

"He's blind…" Ed said half in questioning. Part of him figured that the General must be chomping at the bit in irritation at being spoken of while he was still in the same room.

"…In one eye, yes. But even still, when he gets the bandages off tomorrow, it's not going to be easy to adjust right away. I need to be there for him as he recovers." She paused for a moment and then continued, "I owe him that much."

Breathing easier now, Edward asked in a whisper, "Are you going to marry him?" For some reason asking this caused him a weird pang. It was jealousy he realized, jealousy that Roy and Riza should still have someone, someone who would lay down their life for the other. Ed lacked that now and he felt as if he'd been cut in half and left for dead. Is that what Riza felt like when Roy had been injured so severely? Did she hurt the same way? And yet, he couldn't sympathize with her in this one thing because she still had Roy. She would always have him. Ed knew that and it was painful.

Were they what? Roy didn't understand how that kind of a question could spew forth from Edward's mouth at a time like this. It was so random, so strange… so… so… the scent of Edward's vomit had reached his nose and was now overwhelming. That alone struck a nerve. He used to be able to handle such things. He'd been on battle fields where blood, burnt and charred bodies, even the disemboweled or those sick from bad water left awful aromas in the air. However, the bodily pain he'd momentarily forgotten screamed at him in full force and that combined with the smell…

"Havoc… the bucket." He half gagged. He heard Havoc move and take the bucket away.

"No, we aren't getting married." Riza said softly and Roy could hear the smile in her voice.

"And she doesn't owe me anything," Roy added pointedly, panting. He could feel the cold sweat beading his skin, leaving him clammy. "See if the nurses will move another… bed in here. Ed needs some rest and something to settle… his stomach. When he's feeling better he'll need something substantial but bland to eat… Might want to have the doctor check him over too… Does he need clean clothes?"

He'd send for anything and everything if need be if only to make Edward more comfortable. He hated this… this pain, this not being able to get up and take control and do whatever it took to make everything better for Ed… sharp pains in the place that used to house his left eye wracked his head, all the places he'd been stabbed and sliced throbbed and it hurt to even breathe. He tried to focus solely upon Edward since the young alchemist had distracted him from his own pain before but it was futile.

"He'll need a bath too but I will see that he gets everything. You need to lie back and let the nurse give you that medicine or you'll be no good to anyone, least of all Ed." Riza promised.

Roy gritted his teeth as he leaned back in the bed. He felt large hands aiding him and figured it was Armstrong. He muttered a quiet 'thank you' and left it at that.

"I will get the nurse," was Armstrong's reply.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

Edward felt stupid for having said anything about marriage. It was so utterly stupid! But his chest ached in a jealously he couldn't stifle and marriage was the only word he could think of to express himself.

Feeling childish, he allowed himself to be helped up from the floor and led out of the room. Another bed? Hadn't he heard the General mention something about another bed being brought in? For some reason, the fact that General Mustang would allow for Ed to stay in his room, to rest there with him… was it pity or did the General really care about him, really want to ease his pain and did the man have any concept of how impossible a task that would be?

A short while later Edward was taken to the bathing area and even though several nurses assured Hawkeye that they'd tend to him, the First Lieutenant sent them on their way and explained that she'd rather oversee Edward herself. She led him into the room and turned her back to him. "Undress and get into the bath."

"A-aren't you gonna leave the room?" Ed asked, wondering why he even cared.

"No. I won't peek, Edward. But I'm not going to leave you by yourself." She said sternly but with concern in her voice.

"Oh… okay." He replied and shakily unbuttoned the shirt and removed it. To the best of Edward's knowledge, the only person to really see him naked aside from any medical personnel and those Ishbalans had been his brother. Not even Winry and, God knows, she walked in on him changing enough times that she ought to have seen at least a butt cheek. But no, Ed was always faster than her wandering eyes, and on the few occasions that he wasn't fast enough, Al stepped in and shielded him.

It was kind of the First Lieutenant to offer him privacy and he even understood her reasons for not leaving the room and while he was mildly insulted that she and everyone felt he needed to be watched, part of him was growing darker and darker and he realized that their fears were indeed justified.

After slipping completely out of the borrowed uniform, he stepped over the lip of the tub and descended into the bath salt laden water. It was nice and murky and hid him from view.

"K." He whispered and watched the First Lieutenant turn to face him.

In her eyes he could see the image of a child reflected. He must look so utterly pathetic. As she approached her brow knitted into an expression of sympathy and worry. Without speaking she pulled a chair to the end of the tub and then sat down and rolled up her sleeves.

"Lean back." She instructed and did not wait for Edward to obey; rather she grabbed a sponge and began to wet his hair thoroughly. It was a motherly thing to do and once she'd wet his blond locks, she reached for the shampoo and began to massage it into his scalp.

Ed sniffled and as she continued to wash and scrub his long hair, he was overcome with the simple sweetness of the gesture and he drew his hands to his eyes and pressed his palms to them, trying to keep himself from sobbing. His right hand throbbed and the wet bandage threatened to come off, but he ignored it as he hiccupped and choked on little whimpers and sobs.

Hawkeye was amazing, just silently scrubbing away until at last she must have deemed his dirty locks to be presentable, at which time she used the sponge to draw water through the sudsy strands. Meticulously she rinsed the hair and when she finished Edward was sobbing enough that he had to splash water into his face over and over again to wash the tears and ick away.

"It d-doesn't feel real." He whispered. "None of it… I just want to wake up and realize it was all just a bad dream."

"Edward," she said softly and then her hands worked to part his hair. She set half over one shoulder and half over the other. "Edward," she spoke again, but this time softer and secretive, "how did this happen?" Her fingers traced the spot between his shoulder blades, the place that now bore the blood seal, and Ed shivered and cringed.

"I don't know." He replied honestly. "B-but, please don't tell him about it." He turned his head and looked at her pleadingly.

"Alright, I won't say anything." She gave a soft nod and then took up the sponge once more, using it to gently wash his back.

The doctor was gone. He'd come in and examined the young alchemist, bandaged his wounded hand properly and given him medication for the pain and something to help him relax. Normally he wouldn't have taken the latter meds, but with Hawkeye, Havoc, and Armstrong all crammed into the medium sized hospital room and standing guard over Edward and the General, it would be impossible to relax without a little something to help.

Gradually he felt sleepy and rolled so that his back was to them. He wore a soft t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting sleeping pants and his hair was pulled back in a braid, compliments of Hawkeye. The First Lieutenant had done her best to give him a sense of normalcy and he was very appreciative, but he knew that there was nothing she could really do to quell the aching in his chest. For that, sleep was the only cure and it was a temporary and imperfect one at that.

* * *

Roy woke twice during the night, the pain killers having worn off and new ones had been administered. In his lucid moments, before the medication worked its magic and gave him relief, he spoke with Riza and Havoc. Armstrong was outside, guarding the door to the room. Havoc and Riza were taking shifts to watch over him and Edward.

Riza expressed the same fear Roy felt deep within, the fear of Edward taking his own life and thus negating everything Alphonse had assumedly given up. That was the consensus between all of them, that whatever event took place, where ever it had been, something terrible had happened and gone wrong and if it hadn't been Alphonse, they all knew it would have been Edward. Of course they all wanted to know, it seared within them all like a 2nd degree burn. The pain of knowing one of the bright, kind-hearted boys was forever gone and not knowing how it had happened, and the relief that it could be much worse, that Edward could be gone from them as well.

But it was morning now and Roy wanted nothing more than to tear the bandages from his face. Aside from the pain was the insatiable itching that he couldn't get to and when he tried Hawkeye pulled his hands away, saying he might damage himself. When he mentioned that he didn't think that was possible she'd fallen uneasily silent.

The door opened and Roy perked up, waiting for Riza to tell him who it was. He was hoping for a nurse with a syringe filled with medication, a drink, anything to dull the stabbing aches and this horrendous itching. He'd never itched so much in his life and thought even the worst case of lice couldn't itch this bad.

"It's the doctor." Riza said quietly.

"Good morning, General, I'm glad to see that you are awake." The doctor said quietly and his footfalls paused, "How is the boy? Did he sleep through the night?"

"As far as we know," Riza replied.

"I'll have my nurse check in on him in a bit and see if he can stomach a little something. If you can, you should try to get him to eat." The doctor said as if they needed to be told how to take care of the elder Elric brother. "As for you, General, I've come to remove those bandages and see how the healing process is coming along."

After the curtains were drawn and a nurse had come to assist, Roy waited on edge as the doctor began removing the gauze from around his head. It was almost too much, the man was taking too much time, and Roy realized that with his mind focused upon his own situation… He didn't know what to think or how to feel. Part of him was reluctant to see, afraid that he looked like a monster not too far off from that which he'd destroyed. The other part of him wanted to get this over with, have a look, figure out a way to make the best of it and get on with things. And yet he knew he was never going to be the same, none of them were and it scared the hell out of him.

Finally the last bandage fell from his face and he had to resist the urge to touch himself, to feel what all the fuss was about. He hissed and bit back a groan as the doctor poked gently and prodded.

"Well," the man sighed, "Looks pretty good considering. I will prescribe some antibiotics and have a nurse instruct Lt. Hawkeye on how to take care of you. I'll need you to come back in in a few days to see if all the stitches are ready to come out."

Roy nodded, taking it all in as calmly as he could, "Can I open my right eye?"

"Yeah, I suspect it will be a little blurry at first and I want you to make sure you rest it every now and again to help reduce the strain." The doctor replied.

He didn't wait but he was slow about it, letting his eye open with its own ease. The doctor was right, his sight was blurry. He blinked a couple of times and that helped a little. "I want to see."

"General," Riza breathed.

Roy smirked, "Come on, it can't be that bad. I promise I won't scream and tear out of the room." She just looked away, ashamed and tired.

"You'd better prepare yourself." The doctor warned and nodded to the nurse. Roy didn't recognize her but then he didn't spend a lot of time in the infirmary or military hospital or try to get to know all the nurses and she could be new. She was a pretty brunet though and as she pulled a women's compact mirror from her pocket, she tried on a little smile.

"Thank you," Roy said with one of his best smiles. She blushed a little so he couldn't be too hideous, right?

When Roy had the mirror open and saw himself for the first time, all he could do was stare. Fading yet deep bruises colored the left side of his face. Where his eye had been was sunken in a little and stitches, wet with antibiotic ointments glistened in the faint light. It was… for a moment he thought he might be sick. Sick from the looks of it, sick from the shock, and sick from realization that had finally hit home… his eye was really gone. He really wouldn't be able to… see from that side ever again. How was he to drive… How was he to measure distance let alone perform any alchemy that required…

Roy dressed his face in a smile, snapped the compact shut, and handed it to the nurse before turning to Riza. "See Hawkeye, not so bad. Besides, I hear women think eye patches are sexy."

She started to speak then turned from him to the nurse, "If you could tell me now, how to-"

"Of course, and I will show you how to do everything." The nurse replied.

* * *

It was a dream that woke him, a dream that was so vivid and terrifying that he simply had to wake up and yet, the second his eyes opened, it faded. There had been blood. That's all he remembered and now he was sitting up in a hospital bed, breathing quickly, shallowly and feeling utterly alone and lost. He knew where he was and why… knew that he'd broken down into a sobbing mess in front of the blinded General and even recalled how his hair had come to be in its current braid, but none of that information settled him. He was lost, so very lost.

Pausing to take in the situation he saw a curtain drawn across the room, dissecting it. He heard people beyond the curtain, Riza's voice, the doctor, and the General. He thought he heard another female as well and he assumed it was a nurse. They were doing something with the General, probably fussing over his eye.

Ed grimaced and looked down at his own mildly damaged hand. It bothered him that Roy had suffered so greatly and he wanted to know, wanted to hear the details, but he didn't want to see it. Everything lately had become a testament to his own failure – his hand, his leg, the expression on Riza's face, the oddly compassionate lilt in the General's voice – and he knew that Roy's injuries and scars would only compound the fact that others had made sacrifices whereas all Edward had done was take.

Slipping quietly out of the bed, he almost gasped as his bare feet touched chilled tile. With a soft gulp he continued onward and found it much easier to sneak around with normal legs rather than a loud clanking auto-mail appendage. He made it out of the room easy enough, but when he entered the hallway he blinked and realized that he was still under the watchful eyes of Mustang's men. Havoc and Armstrong were talking among themselves, blocking the way toward the front of the hospital. A second before they noticed him, Ed turned and bolted down the corridor, heading toward the roof. It wasn't that he was trying to escape them, or maybe he was. He just wanted to be alone for a moment, and yet, when he heard Havoc and Armstrong call out to him, their voices betraying their surprise at seeing him not only up and about but bolting, he was glad. They cared, or at least they were ordered to act like they did and though he never would have given such a thing much thought in the past, he felt weak and frightened and to have these men clambering after him made him feel like maybe he meant something.

Racing onward, he found that malnutrition and overall weakness from the brand new leg were working against him and by the time he'd scaled the stairs and slipped through the door which led to the same roof where Ed had once fixed Al's shattered armor body, Havoc was almost upon him.

"Hey!" Havoc yelled, the unlit cigarette that had been dangling from his lips, finally falling from his mouth. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

What the hell 'was' Ed doing? Edward moved toward the railing about the rooftop terrace. He wasn't going to jump; at least he didn't think he was. His hands gripped the railing and he frowned, his eyes trembling as he looked down at the city. What was he going to do now that Alphonse was gone?

"Ed! Hey!" Havoc yelled and as the man reached out as if to grab Edward's shoulders the blond alchemist turned suddenly and faced him, a resolute expression on his face.

"I want a cigarette." Ed spoke suddenly and in the moment of stunned silence that followed he chewed the inside of his lip but did not lower his gaze from Havoc's shocked face.

"Uh…" Jean lowered a brow, "I don't think the General would appreciate me spreading my bad habits to someone so-"

"I swear to God, Havoc, if you say 'short' I'll throw you off the roof." Ed growled dangerously.

"N-no... actually I was gonna say… uh…" he looked embarrassed, "someone so important to him."

Edward quietly considered this for a moment and then sighed, "It'll be our little secret. I just want to try one. You guys are worried about me doing something stupid and rash, right? Well, of all the things I _could_ be doing right now, don't you think smoking is the least of all evils?" It was pathetic of him to be standing there bartering over a damn cigarette but, it was true; he needed something to get his mind off of other rash things that were starting to look very appealing.

"Well, damn it, Kid." Jean reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigs as well as a lighter, "Just make sure it stays 'our little secret' okay." He handed one to Edward and then, as the younger man drew it to his lips, Jean lit the tip.

At first Ed didn't understand what the big deal was as he held it there sizzling idly between his lips. But then Jean instructed him to suck in and then inhale. The coughing fit that ensued left Ed seriously wondering what the hell he was thinking. Several minutes later, after Havoc literally tutored him on the finer points of smoking, Edward was leaning against the rail, flicking the ashes of his cigarette like a pro.

"I've created a monster." Havoc muttered in a gentle tease as he examined how comfortable Edward already was with such a destructive act.

"I'm a fast learner." Edward commented and then took another long drag before exhaling leisurely, feeling a rush and enjoying the momentary, mind numbing high.

Roy had just gotten settled in after being taken care of and given another round of medication when Armstrong entered. But this time Roy could see the behemoth of a man. The vision in his right eye wasn't completely clear but enough that he could make out who was who and what was what.

"What?" Roy asked since Armstrong seemed to be waiting for him.

"Fullmetal made an attempt to escape but Havoc cornered him on the roof-"

"What? And you left them up there?" Roy shouted.

Armstrong held up his hands, "He didn't jump, he asked Lt. Havoc for a cigarette."

"A cigarette?" Roy asked somewhat floored that Ed would want… no that did make sense in a strange sort of fashion… He shook his head, "And why are you in here telling me about it? We all know Edward can take Havoc and you left them alone?"

"Over stressing yourself isn't going to help you heal any faster." The Doctor muttered.

Roy shot him a glare, "I don't give a damn about me. Ed just lost his little brother. If he isn't suicidal he's dancing on the edge. Armstrong _get_ your ass on that roof and bring him back to me."

"And what makes you think you can take care of him in your condition? Or that he wants your help?" The Doctor asked all too nonchalantly. It was as if the man were a wise old sage patronizing him with stupid shit he didn't want to hear. Riza rested her hand on his arm before he exploded and told the doctor where to shove it.

"Major Elric is _our_ business, Doctor. I am certain you have other patients so if you are finished with General Mustang, I think a nurse can handle the rest for today, thank you."

Roy thought she was being far too nice about it but he kept his mouth shut and watched the doctor take his clip board and leave the room. Riza turned to him then.

"I will bring Edward down." She promised and left him alone with Armstrong who took a seat quietly.

"So, if you don't mind me asking..."

"Because I've watched you smoke for almost four years and you're the most laid back person I know." Ed answered easily as he finished the little unhealthy stick. They stayed still for a little while, just the two of them, arms folded, staring out at Central.

"Well, it's not the smoking that makes me laid back, Ed." Havoc finally muttered. "I'm just naturally that way. Just like you're naturally ambitious." He raised an eyebrow and lit another cigarette. "I started smoking when I was too young to know any better now I can't imagine going a day without sucking down a pack or more. It's not something I'm proud of, you know."

"It's part of who you are, though," Ed let out a deep sigh, "I need something like that..."

"What?" Havoc inhaled fresh smoke from the new cigarette and nearly choked in surprise.

"I don't have anything that's just me... m-my arm and leg... my goal... hell, even my stupid watch..." he looked over at Havoc and then reached out asking for a second smoke. Before Havoc could plop one into his palm however, the door to the roof opened and they were graced with the presence of the First Lieutenant.

"Edward Elric!" She called in her 'no bullshit' voice. "Come with me."

Ed blinked at her and got the strange feeling that he was in trouble. It was almost a refreshing feeling. Leaving Havoc to stand near the rail, he moved, his bare feet softly padding on the warm concrete, until he came to stand before Hawkeye. He couldn't help but look down in shame, almost as if 'mommy' had just caught him smoking. She regarded him for a few seconds before relaxing a little. Her lips even cracked a small restrained smile. Ed frowned. Why was she smiling?

"Come on, Fullmetal, the General wants to see you."

"That's a real shocker. What, did he find out I wasn't within arm's reach and then flipped out?" Ed replied sourly. It was something that felt natural though.

"Something like that." She admitted and smirked once more as she led the younger alchemist back inside.

"Um... you gotta mint or something?" Ed asked as he sniffed his hand and found it to reek of smoke and tobacco.

"Don't bother. Armstrong already told us."

"He... he told you? The General too?" His brows knit in worry.

"Yes. Don't worry though, you're not grounded or anything." Hawkeye was joking around... it worried Ed


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Once inside the hospital room, Ed found himself, again, facing a thin blue curtain, but just as soon as he'd become lost in the waves of fabric, Riza pulled them aside, opening the room to its prior fullness. There sat the General, his body still bandaged, his torso still covered by a loose fitting gown, but his eyes... his face... there was a thin line of gauze covering the worst of it, but it did little to hide the fact that Mustang no longer had a left eye and, from the looks of it, he was damned lucky that he was only missing the one. Weeping stitches and blotches of irritated skin seemed to comprise the man's face and Edward began to feel sick again. He wasn't disgusted at Roy's face, and, in truth, he'd seen much worse before, but this was the man who'd been there for him, who'd come after him time and time again, the man who'd pushed and guided Edward, treated him like an adult... _this _man. And now he looked utterly destroyed.

_Please don't be broken_, Ed thought and swallowed the lump in his throat. "You wanted me, General?"

Roy inhaled, stirring from his light dozing and opened his eye. It was strange not to see metal glinting in the light from beneath fabric, strange to see him alone… and… something was missing from those amber eyes. It was the flame, the drive, the life that used to flicker and it made a little piece of the General's heart break and bleed for the young man standing before him expectantly.

"I did," It was all he could think to say for the moment. It took him a moment to get his brain working through the brewing fog building from the medication. "Sit down, Ed." He waited until Ed sat in the chair Hawkeye pulled up for him.

"Do you remember the day not so long ago that I yelled at you for not coming to me for help?" He asked but didn't wait for a response, "It's the same now. You're going to come home with me tomorrow just as soon as the doctor lets me go. It's not a big place but there is room for you. And like I said before, Hawkeye will be there…" He let out a yawn and shifted in the bed.

"… It's not a request… And if you're going to smoke, have Havoc help you find decent ones. You can smoke anywhere in the house but the study…" he looked to Hawkeye, "Make sure he eats something…"

He watched with a sinking heart as the man faded and faded, succumbing to the pain medicine that was racing through his system. Sighing, he folded his arms across his chest. So the General didn't care if he smoked. This alone was nearly enough to make Edward decided against ever having another cigarette again; besides, what fun was rebelling if he received his 'father's' blessing? But then again, he wasn't smoking as a way to piss people off - not really - he was smoking because it was destructive and selfish and made him feel something other than pain.

When the man mentioned Edward coming to live with him again, the teen scoffed. As Mustang told Hawkeye to make sure that Ed ate something, he finally spoke up, "I'm not hungry, General." His voice was a low grumble and was immediately overpowered by the violent growl of his stomach which begged to differ.

"Uh..." he moved his arms lower and hugged his middle. "Fine. I'm hungry. But I'm not going to just move in... I gotta go back to Resembool..." he said this to no one, though; the General's breaths were slow and even. He was asleep.

Turning toward Riza, Edward frowned, "I'm serious, Lieutenant. I know guys have taken care of me for a long time, but I gotta go home. I can't stay. I won't. And that's final." Oh how wrong he was.

* * *

The next day, Ed stood in the doorway to Mustang's guest room. As it turned out, the idea of going home was a great deal more frightening than Edward could fathom and all it took was Riza staring him down for him to submit to accompany her and the General to his home.

Standing there, he swallowed the lump in his throat. It was surreal. Was this even happening? Never in his life did Ed think he would be living with this man...

Moving toward the bed, Edward dropped his suitcase on the quilt covered mattress. He brought all of his belongings with him; clothes, the few books he felt the need to keep, a journal, a few little items that he and Al had picked up, and, the newest additions, three packs of cigarettes and a lighter. Opening up the suitcase, he pulled out a pack that Havoc had hand picked for him. He dug out a cigarette and popped it between his lips.

Slipping the lighter into his pocket he wandered into the main room, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips in a perfect mirror of Havoc's style. A few moments later he found himself in the General's bedroom. Riza had just finished changing the dressing over the crater where Roy's eye used to be. He lingered near the wall, feeling like he shouldn't be in there, but not wanting to be alone either.

Roy watched his 1st Lieutenant gather the mess of old bandages and trash from nursing his face and deposited it in the small waste paper basket at his bedside. She was quiet, unusually quiet and he'd not really had the chance to ask her why. It was as if she carried all of his injuries upon her shoulders and he had noticed that she winced every time she looked at the mess behind the bandages. She didn't wince from revulsion it was something else… almost like she blamed herself for that wound in particular.

That was nonsense, of course, she wasn't to blame and at any rate she was here now helping him recover and keeping an eye on Edward when he couldn't. He'd almost made a bad joke about that earlier that morning but thought better of it if only for her sake. It was still so surreal, he wasn't ready to let go as he'd instructed Edward to do. He couldn't quite fathom that his life was altered forever and so he put on a mask of indifference and tried to hold it together. After all neither Riza nor Edward needed him to be a mess, they needed him to be strong for them and he needed their need else he might really lose it.

He heard the floor boards at the entrance of his bedroom give a familiar creek as someone entered. Riza looked over her shoulder and frowned, shaking her head and when Roy made indication that he wanted to sit up more, she helped him. He looked for Edward and when he saw him awkwardly standing just inside the door, he nodded to Riza.

"Mini Havoc," He said with a smirk.

She perked a brow and sighed, "Do you want your medication before or after lunch?"

"Well," He really pondered the question, leaving her waiting for his answer for a few moments. While he didn't enjoy the pain and had found a certain peace under the blanket of the pills, he still had some bit of dignity left inside and didn't fancy falling asleep in his afternoon meal.

"After," He said finally.

"You're sure?" She asked hesitantly.

"I've got Edward to look after me." He assured her and motioned for Edward to come closer.

Riza nodded and lifted the trash can from the floor. She paused before Edward. "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." Then she left them, closing the door just a little bit to give them some privacy.

Roy waited until she was down the hall then reached for his bedside table. Pulling open the drawer, he dug around until he found what he wanted and set it on the table top. He reached into the drawer again, retrieving his own pack of cigarettes and finally closed the table up.

Quietly, Roy took out a cigarette. It was one of the more expensive brands but since he only had one once in awhile he'd felt paying a little extra was worth it, especially since this brand didn't dry out as quickly as some of the others. He shifted a little bit to provide a little more room.

"Are you going to smoke that or let it hang there?" He asked and reached for the two things he'd brought out. The first was a heavy, carved crystal ashtray which he placed on the bed near his hip. The second was a small, round lighter placed in a round, carved crystal holder. Roy used the lighter to light his cigarette and then held it out for Edward.

"Come here, Ed," He said softly, "Have you had a chance to explore the house yet? You'll have to forgive me for not giving you a proper tour."

Ed held the small lighter in his left hand but resisted lighting his own cigarette. It was strange to see the General smoking and in that moment he thought how odd it must be for Roy to see Edward smoking.

With a shrug he replied, "Don't worry. I can get into plenty of trouble without you showing me where it's at." Tilting his head he mused, "I never thought I'd see you using a lighter. Thought flame would just shoot from your fingertip or something." It wasn't meant to be harsh, though there was a good chance it sounded as such.

After a moment longer of fondling the little lighter he lit the tip of his inferior brand cigarette and took a long drag. "I can't believe you smoke in the house." He half grinned as he shook his head. "Heh, can't believe _I'm_ smoking in the house. Winry would not approve." He took another long puff off the cigarette and then seated himself in the chair that was most likely Hawkeye's post. "Does the Lieutenant know you smoke?"

Roy bit back a hiss of pain as he leaned over and gently pulled the lighter from Ed's hand. He knew that sometimes people made off with lighters without intending to and he didn't want this one to go missing. He ignored the comment about his use of the thing instead of alchemy because he couldn't bear to even think about such a thing at the moment. Frankly it was all he could do not to send Edward from the room, skip lunch, and demand the pain killers so he could be lost in sleep. Then again… sleep was starting to scare him. He dreamt when he slept now, at least in the last day or so.

No, he needed to stay awake as much as possible when Ed was awake so he could keep watch and be there for Edward when it was time for Ed to break. He knew it was coming, he could feel it be it in the young alchemist's aura or just from past experience. Ed was like him in a way, hiding his real feelings, pushing the matters of the heart and any suffering he had as far back so no one could see it and if a little slipped out he held everyone at arms length, pretending that nothing at all was wrong or that it wasn't a big deal.

"She knows but she also knows that I am not a career smoker like Havoc. The only thing she asked was that I didn't smoke cigars around her." He replied and then sighed deciding to test the waters a little.

"I think I would enjoy bed rest and being waited on hand and foot more if I didn't ache so much… By the way, how does it feel, your arm and leg? Aside from being different, are you doing okay there at least? If your body hurts I want to know so we can get that problem solved, the rest will come in time."

Roy reached for Ed's hand and grasped it, "I'm not asking you to tell me anything, not yet, I'll leave that open for you to decide when. Just know you can come to me for help or just to talk; no jokes, no sarcasm from me. You're one of mine, Ed, and believe it or not, that _does_ mean something."

'How does it feel?' Ed pondered the man's words and was trying to think of a way to describe the newness, the strange guilt that came from the existence of his arm and leg. He'd been about to respond when the man suddenly touched him and spoke to him. Immediately Edward's cheeks heated in frustration. He wanted to tell the General about the under ground city and about Envy and… about dying. He wanted to tell him all of this, but it just wouldn't come to his lips. It was stuck inside him with no way to get out. Randomly he thought of Rose. Where was she now?

"Heh," he said weakly and pulled his hand away from the General. "My arm and leg…" he began, "feel almost as disabling as when I'd first been fixed up with auto-mail. It doesn't hurt, really. It's just a little sore and my weight's off, which means my balance is nonexistent. I feel like… I feel like I'm going to have to relearn everything." He sucked on the cigarette for a moment and coughed just a bit as his throat was tightening.

"It's scary. And it shouldn't be. Do you remember when you first met me? How messed up I was, and then a year later, I was on my feet and ready for anything? Most people take three years to heal and retain their bodies after auto-mail surgery, but not me." Holding the cigarette now, he watched it sizzle and turn to ash without bothering to smoke it. "So now it seems like I'll be doing it all over again, but it's worse, because, before, I had a goal. I had a reason to heal," he said almost in a whisper, "and this time, I don't."

He was quiet as he pressed the ashy length into the crystal tray and then wrapped his arms about his middle. "General," his golden eyes lifted and he stared intently at Roy, "I appreciate what you're doing for me and it's good to know that I have someone I can talk to." He took a breath, "But it goes both ways. I… I don't really know what I'm doing anymore, Roy," he looked down at his lap and swallowed several times as he forced himself to finish speaking, "I don't know what kind of help I can be, but I do know what it's like to wake up and find that a part of you is missing."

He frowned as a small internal spasm pinched his left leg. Standing now, he walked to the window and tried to stretch the muscle. He slid his hands in his pockets and glanced at the General, "So if _you_ ever need to talk… I'll listen." Strangely enough, it felt good to offer such a thing. Perhaps it was because it permitted avoidance – if he was worried over Mustang's problems, he couldn't worry over his own – or perhaps he really did feel for the General.

The absurdness of the situation made Roy chuckle, so they were hiding behind each other's pain; using the other as an excuse not to venture into the dark places and really look at their own problems.

"Don't take this wrong I'm not laughing at you, Ed, I'm laughing at us. You know we're pretty similar in a lot of ways. Hawkeye would call us childish and stubborn, Hughes would say the same." He took a drag off his cigarette and skirted the real issue for just a moment more, "But since we have a few things in common we must be brilliant and charming and of course good looking…" But his smile faded and he nodded, "I'll keep that in mind and for the record… It is… comforting, having someone on equal footing to confide in. But if you punch me, I'll punch you back, deal?"

Ed blinked at the man and tilted his head. He wasn't sure what the man meant by talking about exchanging punches; sounded like an inside joke. "If I punch you, you won't be _able_ to punch me back." He grinned and then nodded, "But, yeah, it's a deal."

Deciding not to sit back down just yet he lingered at the window and then crossed the room, moving toward the closet. He peered inside, looking over the man's wardrobe. It must have looked pretty suspicious of him to look through his General's closet like this, but he needed something to occupy him and keep him moving.

"As for charming and all that, I think that's where we are definitely not alike. I recently had a love confession from that girl from Liore. Her name is Rose. She was with me d-during… well… during everything that happened," he hoped the General would understand what he meant by that since Ed really didn't feel like painting him a more vivid picture.

"Anyway, she told me she loved me and I basically told her she was nuts." He cracked a small smile while still looking at Roy's clothes. Ed had seen the man dressed as a civilian before and there was a fair amount of off-duty clothing present, but the amount of Military garb outnumbered it fair and square. This man truly was a General first and man second.

"I'm sure if I was as charming as you, I could have come up with something a little bit better than 'you don't know what you're saying, we're just friends.'" He sighed and turned to look at Roy. "You know, you're pretty helpless right now. You should have Hawkeye move a cot in here so she can look out for you." And then something heated inside him and in his embarrassment, he just made it worse, "Or, hell, the bed's plenty big enough. She wouldn't even need a cot."

Roy smirked, "Well hell, Ed, if she's moving in here and sharing my bed why don't we move you in here with me too." He was joking of course but Edward was snooping in his closet for whatever reason and it made him a little uncomfortable. There wasn't a damned thing that would fit the blonde alchemist in there and if he was looking for something secret or interesting he was really out of luck.

"And what do you mean I won't be _able_ to hit you back? What makes you think I would attack when you are expecting it? What _are_ you doing in my closet?"

"Um…" Ed closed the door suddenly and stepped back from the closet. Moving closer to the bed, he furrowed his brow and shifted his weight between his legs, almost nervously.

"I'm paranoid." He offered at last. "And I guess I'm a snoop. That's how it's always been; I've always pried, always found things I shouldn't. How do you think I found out about alchemy? I slipped into my father's study after he abandoned us… and that's when I opened my first alchemy book," he stopped and stood before his seat.

With a sigh he plopped down and slung a leg up over the arm of the chair so that he was sprawled comfortably. There was once a time when he would sit in Mustang's office and have to recount 'this and that' and explain spending and damages left in his wake during his hunt for the stone. He would sit proper most of the time, but there were times when he felt particularly childish and he sprawled out on the couch and rolled his eyes to his superior's words.

Eager to forget thoughts of his father and of alchemy, he shrugged, "And as for all three of us in one bed… I guess that's alright. I'll bring my stuff in here this afternoon. There's not much, just some random crap from my locker at Headquarters. I'm sure it would fit in your closet, under that pin stripe suit you've got in there." He paused for a moment, taking in Roy's expression and then he offered a cheesy grin which lasted only a few seconds and then fizzled away until all that was left was Ed's grief.

Any quip or clever sarcastic remark Roy had, died on his lips. It had been nice for a moment to joke with Ed, to actually joke with him like he'd joked with Maes. And it had been nice to see Ed's grin once more but it all faded away too soon and the moment when they just were, just two men talking and kidding around, was gone. The room fell quiet.

Livi, Roy's cat made her appearance, pausing to investigate Ed's boot, and then sitting on the floor beside the bed. "Meow" she said stating her presence and her need for attention. Roy pat the bed and she jumped up and made herself at home on his lap. She didn't sit right away, but stood there eyeing him expectantly until he pet her.

Thankfully Hawkeye entered with a tray of lunch, three bowls of soup, one for each of them. She set the tray at the end of the bed and examined them both. "Did something happen?"

"No, we were just talking." Roy replied.

"Did I interrupt?" She asked.

"No, is that vegetable soup?" He asked catching a whiff. "What do you say to all three of us sharing a room?" He'd say anything to break the unease within the room and gain some form of normalcy.

"Neither one of you are up for that and frankly neither am I. Eat your lunch boys."

Ed was appreciative of Hawkeye's interruption. He wasn't particularly hungry but the soup was a good way to forget the stupid things he'd been talking about as well as the stupid reference to Rose and her awkward love confession. It occurred to Ed that Roy had probably received about a million such confessions in his life and he didn't care to hear about some kid's singular encounter. Hell, the General hadn't even commented on it.

After seating himself he took a tentative spoonful of the soup and then several more until the warm, tasty broth filled his tummy. Cooking is just like alchemy, Ed thought. He tried to compliment Hawkeye on her amazing alchemy skills in being able to make a bunch of vegetables taste like this, but she shrugged and explained that the soup was ordered from a nearby restaurant. Apparently it was a place the General frequented and he was fond of this particular soup.

Immediately Ed felt stupid but he didn't know why. It wasn't as if he was supposed to know where Roy spent his off time, and he certainly wasn't supposed to know what the General fancied as far as food went.

When he'd eaten over half the soup, he rose and excused himself. Returning to the guest room he plopped down on the bed and pulled out a cigarette. He smoked it slowly and he watched the smoke as it coiled and dissipated. Alchemy. Alphonse. Already he regretted eating as much as he had because he knew that before the day was over he'd be in the bathroom retching. What a waste of good soup.

A few hours later, after his mind went down the treacherous path of 'how the hell am I gonna tell Winry?' he was, indeed, in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet. It was his intention not to let the First Lieutenant know, but she must have overheard for she entered the bathroom just as he was finishing. She brought fresh towels, a glass of milk and a few pills that Roy's doctor had said would help with nausea.

"Here, take these and then take a bath." She ordered.

Reaching out, Edward found that he was shaking. His whole body was shaking and he winced just a bit as he took the pills from her. "Thanks." He was about to reach for the cup of milk, but when he realized what it was; he dropped his gaze and grumbled, "I'd rather just have water…"

"No." Riza said sternly.

"I hate milk!" Ed protested.

"Edward, milk is the best thing for you right now. First of all, it'll help settle your stomach and second of all, your body _needs_ it. You have a lot more organic tissue than you used to and if you want to keep your new appendages healthy, you'll drink this milk." Her voice was stern but not angry. Her eyes, however, had murder in them.

With a groan, Ed took the glass and then took the pills, sucking in as little of the cow juice as possible. When he tried to hand it back, she just glared and shook her head. Edward felt almost ready to cry.

"Drink it." She commanded.

Under his breath, he grumbled, "If milk's so damn amazing, why don't you make the General drink it?"

"Oh, don't worry, I will. In the mean time: drink."

Whimpering now, he pinched his nose to try and block out some of the taste and then gulped the milk down in a matter of seconds. As he handed the glass back to her, he couldn't suppress an expression of absolute disgust.

"Thanks, Edward." Riza said softly, a smile now upon her lips. "I'll start the water for you." She said and moved to the large tub. "I'll come back in a little bit to check on you. I'll wash your hair again if you like."

"Uh…" Ed wore a sullen expression but nodded, "yeah. I'd like that." In truth, he felt rather infantilized that Riza felt the need to watch him and bathe him, but there was something he felt even more and that was loneliness. He'd let her burp him if it meant he didn't have to be alone with his thoughts. Usually Al would be with him. Al was always there, in everything. Suddenly Edward was all alone and it hurt him on such an intense and constant level that it frightened him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

That eye, that terrible eye that betrayed what the creature was… it laughed at him from the flames. No matter how hard he fought, no matter how many times he burned him Bradley kept getting up, kept moving toward him, charred, smoking, sizzling skin and all, even as he healed. He just _**wouldn't**_ die. Always chasing him and out of nowhere there would be Maes's dead body, there would be Bradley's son's body and always Roy would trip over them and fall…

"General! ... Roy Mustang wake up!" It was just like before, he could hear Riza but not see her and she too would die if he didn't destroy Bradley.

"Damn it, Roy, you're going to scare Edward! Wake up!" She demanded.

Scare Edward? Scaring the young man would be better than watching him die at the hands of Bradley for something he didn't do! Bradley would kill both of the Elric's, shame their name in mud and who knew what else if he didn't kill Bradley. If he could just get the upper hand!

Had Edward been asleep, he wouldn't have been for very long. He'd been lying in bed, covering his face with a pillow trying to block out the images of blood and maybe even trying to suffocate himself, when he'd heard the first of many screams. Chills ran down his spine and he flung the pillow aside.

Hopping quickly to his feet he took a defensive stance, his gold eyes darting this way and that. It was such a horrid sound, the screams and shouts, and he was terrified to see what was causing such turmoil, yet at the same time he somehow knew it was Roy making those noises and after everything the General had done for him, he couldn't just ignore this.

Moving cautiously from his room, he made his way down the hall, closer and closer to Roy's bedroom. When he reached the doorway, he paused and just stood there watching. His arms wrapped around his middle and his brow furrowed. It was hard to watch. The general was asleep it seemed, his voice, deep and yet shallow in anxiety and fear called out in pain, grunted as an imaginary adversary attacked him. His entire body was engaged in battle and his hand was thrust out before him, fingers snapping over and over. If it hadn't been for Riza leaning over the bed trying to wake the frantic Flame Alchemist, Ed would have assumed that there really was someone in the room, that there really was an unseen enemy tormenting Roy, for everything about the man spoke of intensity. Part of Ed wanted to pull Riza back and just let the General fight. Maybe he'd win and it would all be over.

Just then Riza did leave the man be. "Damn it." She cursed under her breath as she stood up. Before she could dart out of the room, on whatever errand she had in mind, Edward stepped away from the door and flattened himself against the wall. Presently the blond Lieutenant darted from the room heading toward the kitchen. She was probably going to get some cold water for the General, or perhaps some type of medicine to calm him down.

When she was out of sight, Edward moved into the man's room. Roy was breathing fast and his brow was dotted in sweat. This couldn't be good for his injuries.

"General." Ed said and stood near the bed. "Hey," he tried to keep his voice low yet firm, "knock it off, Roy. You're gonna hurt yourself." With intensity in his gaze, Edward reached both his hands forward and clasped the General's face. Leaning over him, Ed looked down at the man, his hair escaping from the loose ponytail he'd put it in after his bath that night. Stray blond locks dangled down about his cheeks and chin as he said in a calm, though intense, voice, "Look at me. Look at me, Roy. You got one eye, don't you? Well use it. Wake up and look at me."

Roy recognized that voice and in his dream Edward materialized between himself and the Fuhrer. He reached for Edward, grabbing his shirt and tried to pull him back, "Stay out of the way! He'll kill you! I can't lose you too." He snapped again and in his dream despite Ed telling him to wake up, he tugged and Ed wouldn't move no matter what and Bradley laughed, heading right toward the blonde alchemist, sword posed for the kill.

"Damn it, Ed!" He screamed yanking the young man as hard as he could. Pain shot through his shoulder and he cried out.

What the hell was the General talking about? What did he mean by 'He'll kill you' and even more bizarre, what did Roy mean when he said, 'I can't lose you, too'? But Edward really didn't have time to ponder any of this as he was suddenly yanked protectively downward until his face was buried into the man's chest. He turned his head just a bit so that he could find a comfortable position while being held within the frantic death grip. Ed grunted in dissatisfaction but couldn't think of anything to say. It was actually quite heartbreaking to see this man in such a frenzied state, to feel the intensity of his nightmare.

Roy's heart was beating so fast that it was almost like a vibration against Edward's face. Lying there, literally now 'in' the General's bed, he listened as the man persisted snapping his fingers in defense while he continued to cry out in pain. Frowning, Ed realized who the General was fighting now; the Fuhrer.

"Roy…" he started and then reached his hand up to grab the Flame Alchemist's hand once again, but this time he gripped it with resolution and pulled it downward, pressing it against his own face. "Stop fighting with someone who's already dead! He's gone, but I'm right here, damn it! If you don't want to lose me, then wake up…" he frowned as he said this last bit and his anger diminished into sorrow.

Solid weight and the nearness of Edward's words, the context… and the pain in his shoulder pulled Roy from the dream. The room was dark save for the light filtering in from the kitchen. All was quiet except the noise Hawkeye was making in the yonder room, his panting, and Ed's ragged breaths.

Roy blinked a moment then slowly eased his grip on the young man. How did… why was… Edward in here? His eye closed and he sighed heavily, letting him go. "I'm sorry." It was all he could think to say through the building embarrassment and shame.

Riza returned with a wash cloth, a glass of water, and a pill bottle. She paused in the door examining the situation. Then she moved forward and stopped again. "You've torn some stitches, Edward could you get the peroxide and first aid kit from the bathroom cabinet please?"

"S-sure," he said and then slipped gently away from the man's bed. It felt really strange, everything that had just happened. Roy had held onto him so tightly. Even though he didn't feel it right then, thinking back on the moment when the man clutched onto him so fiercely and protectively, it was kind of… dare he even think it?... sweet, in a way. But why should something like that surprise Edward when earlier that very day the man had told him that he was protective of his own. Ed was one of Mustang's men; that was all.

Moving cautiously in the dark, favoring his right leg and feeling as if his left one was dead weight, he came upon the bathroom. He flicked on the light and saw himself staring back in the mirror. Blinking at the image of the tussled-haired boy, he growled at himself, thoroughly embarrassed by the fact that his cheeks were a deep scarlet.

With a sigh he splashed water on his face and dried off with a hand towel, then grabbed the peroxide and first aid kit. As he returned to the General's room, he wondered what it was that finally woke the man. It would be useful to know so that Edward could skip straight to that next time, rather than being dragged into the man's bed with him and then crushed into him.

Roy hissed as Riza opened his pajama shirt and pulled his arm free of the sweat soaked sleeve. Even she didn't know how Edward had come to be in his bed but they had both speculated that his nightmare, which he didn't want to discuss, was what had brought the young blonde alchemist from his room.

"You are going to have to confide in someone sometime soon, Roy." Riza said softly yet sternly, "It's bad when I can't wake you from your nightmares. And what of Edward? He might have been trying to wake you because he was scared for you. He's in a delicate place himself and he needs to have strong ground to stand on so he can get back on his feet."

Roy cast his eyes to his lap, "I know… I know." But what else was he to say. He knew. He knew he had to be strong and firm for Edward but he felt weak and after the dream… weaker and more helpless than before… And Ed had seen. It was then that he sensed Ed's presence and he looked up.

"Sorry… Ed, you should go back to bed, I'll be fine now and you need your sleep… And Ed, thanks."

Stunned and speechless, Ed handed the first aid supplies off to Hawkeye and then stared at the man for a moment. Roy's hair was matted and flat against his brow. He looked exhausted.

"Sure." He finally muttered and then shuffled awkwardly down the hallway. He entered his room and grabbed a cigarette. Plopping down on his bed he popped the cig in his mouth and just sat there. He'd said sure to the man's thank you, only he really didn't have a clue why the man should thank him. All Edward had managed to do was make an already intense situation that much worse. His foolishness had caused the man to lash out and clutch onto him and that action caused his stitches to rip. In all honesty, Ed should be apologizing not getting thanked. And what did the General mean, 'I can't lose you, too.' It was simple really; it meant he was sick and tired of losing those who were close to him. So then did that mean Ed was close to the man?

Did an endless tirade of short jokes and intermittent lectures using the 'Dad' voice constitute closeness? Is that how the General perceived them to be? And what did that matter anyway? Edward wanted to go back into the General's room and tell him something that he probably shouldn't, but everything was different now, everything had changed and Ed felt tight lipped and yet lacking all inhibitions at the same time.

"Damn it." He finally bit in frustration and lit up his cigarette. He didn't care. None of this mattered. In a mere moment he'd sucked the cigarette down to the filter and still he stayed sitting there. He was suddenly very afraid to sleep.

He was alone now. So utterly alone. The lights were off and the door was shut and he felt cold. "Al." He said in a tentative voice.

"A-Alphonse…" he called softly, wishing that somehow, his brother would reply. Even if his voice carried with it the metallic ring, the tell-tale sound of the armor, Ed would be satisfied and that's perhaps what hurt the most. Edward was so horribly selfish. He wanted Al back and he was willing to put him back in armor to get what he wanted.

"I'm sorry," He whispered. "I'm not a very g-good big brother." He chewed the inside of his cheek. For several minutes he sat there trying to piece together what had happened and feeling angry at himself for not being able to see it, to remember it.

An hour passed and he started to hate himself. That's when he left the room. He was silent as he walked down the hallway. It was dark, and even when he passed Mustang's room there was only a small lantern casting light. Ed paused in the doorway and looked in on the man. From what he could tell, the General was sleeping soundly and there was no sign of Hawkeye. She must have gone to bed after Roy fell asleep.

Nervously Edward entered. He couldn't tell the man when he was awake but if the General was sleeping, truly sleeping, then Edward could at least ease his conscience in this one little thing. Coming to stand beside the General he looked down and was taken aback by how calm he looked now compared to earlier. Probably a result of the pills.

"S-sir….?" Ed spoke and then ground his teeth, "I mean… Roy. There's something I want to tell you. Al would have wanted me to say it, so… W-we never really told you how much you meant to us. And… you really do mean something; I guess that's why I tried and failed to help tonight when I saw you fighting in your sleep." He swallowed and cleared his throat, "You intimidate me."

After a short pause he continued, "You _really_ intimidate me. But I'm not afraid of you. I've never been afraid of you, which is kind of weird, considering. Uh, I guess… even though Al and I had our goals… I still just wanted to do a good job for you. I missed that feeling, you know, feeling like I had to own up to someone, feeling like what I did mattered and not just to me and to Al. It was nice…"

He chewed his cheek and finished, "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say. That and, thank you, for trying to take care of me, when I'm like this. I don't think I could handle Risembool right now. I'm too damn chicken to even think about calling Winry. And I'm sort of lost." Sighing he backed a few steps from the bed, "I'm gonna go now. I know you're asleep but, thanks for listening."

But the General hadn't been sleeping, just pretending, pretending so Hawkeye would leave him alone and get some rest herself. She'd given him medication sure enough but this prescription either wasn't as strong as what he was given in the hospital or he was becoming a little immune. Or perhaps it was that his own terror and fear of sleep was waging war against the drugs… Either way he knew he would lose eventually to the pills.

Then Edward had come creeping in like a timid child and bared his soul and he couldn't help but fight to stay awake to listen. The words the young alchemist spoke filled him with more pain than that of his wounds but it was a cathartic sort. Maybe he hadn't known it before or maybe he had and just didn't pay attention what with other things pressing his mind, but he loved the Elrics. It could only be love… True he'd been intrigued and seen opportunity, even pitied and sympathized with them at first but over time… All of that turned into something more and hearing Edward's quiet admissions, the soft thank you… It meant more to Roy than he could have ever imagined and yet he didn't want to be thanked.

Roy wet his lips and a smile quirked his lips, "You're welcome, Ed." He knew Edward was about to snap, it was only Edward Elric fashion to do so when caught by surprise, but before he'd let that happen, he turned his face to try and see the young man and said, "And thank you for helping me all these years and opening my eyes to the truth."

His eyes were wide with shock at hearing the man's voice when there ought not to be any sound. He gasped as he turned his head to regard the General, but any further commentary or noises were halted as the man thanked him rather sincerely. Why in the world would the man thank him? As far as Edward was concerned, it was his fault that so much bad had happened in such a short time. It was Edward's fault that Al was gone; Ed's fault that Hughes had died; Ed's fault that the General had lost his eye.

Edward let out an inadvertent huff as he folded his arms over his chest. "You're kind of a bastard, you know that?" He chided but not too loudly as he didn't want 'Mamma' Hawkeye to rush in there. "You really know how to piss me off. I didn't want you to actually hear those things, Roy. Those were private!"

But that wasn't the truth and he knew this even as he stared down at the floor, stray strands of hair falling down around his face, that he was actually quite relieved that the man was awake.

"So…" he swallowed the strange lump in his throat, "now that you have something amusing to occupy yourself with, I sh-should say goodnight… you should sleep." But couldn't bring himself to move. Instead he stayed right where he was, his arms starting to tremble.

"Unless you're afraid to sleep. I could stay in here for a little bit… if you're scared." He shrugged and looked toward to the door just so the General wouldn't see that it was Edward who was afraid to sleep – it was Edward who was terrified and that's why he'd been out roaming the hall in the first place.

Roy sensed that it wasn't just him who was wary of sleep. Homunculi were frightening things and just knowing that monsters really did exist was bad enough for him. However, in Ed's case it had to be much worse. He'd told Roy that he was going to find the one they called master and destroy the stone and he must have but somehow also lost his best friend, his brother. What ever had happened must have been ten times more horrifying than what Roy had faced and his own experience was terrible enough.

Roy took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he pat the bed, "Since we are both fighting sleep I'll take you up on that offer. I was only pretending to sleep for Hawkeye's sake. As much as I appreciate what she's doing for us, I'd really hate to see her make herself sick. Speaking of which, you might want to shut the door. That woman's got some kind of twisted sense about her to know when something's not like she left it or something's going on or if I am up to something…" He paused and shivered, "Makes me wonder if she took lessons from my mother behind my back."

Ed gave a wry smile. "I bet you were a terror." He smirked and then went to the door. He closed it and then returned. There was a chair nearby but the General had pat the bed before Ed closed the door and honestly that sounded much more comfortable to him. His mind was awake, but that didn't mean his body wasn't exhausted and craving the softness and warmth of bed.

Pausing near the foot of the bed, as if contemplating whether or not to actually sit down, he felt a very strange twinge. He used to sleep near Al all the time when they were kids. And there were times during their travels that they would share a bed even though Alphonse was incapable of sleep. He'd crawl on in and then Ed would be able to rest, knowing that there was someone beside him and completely comforted because of it.

With a soft little nod, Ed circled around to the other side of the bed. It was a good sized bed, not enormous, but plenty large enough for the two of them. Hesitant to get under the covers even though it was getting a little chilly, he decided to sit, with his legs folded beneath him, so that he was facing Mustang. He wrapped his arms around his middle and sighed, "When I came in here earlier, you were snapping."

In the dimly lit room, he was able to find Roy's face and focus on his eye as he spoke, "It looked like you were trying to burn someone. It was the Fuhrer, wasn't it," he stated rather than asked. "Have you told anyone exactly what happened or are you shouldering it all by yourself?"

Roy felt any hint of mirth drain from his body and fall to a puddle on the floor to leak through the floorboards. He smirked, "If I tell my secret you have to spill yours, Ed. Equivalent exchange is an alchemist's dogma, remember."

He stared ahead blindly. His pulse raced even though he thought his heart had actually stopped. "I…" he could feel his eyes already beginning to wet with tears. He didn't know that this situation could be chalked up to equivalent exchange. How could Edward's horrible experience match or equal Roy's experience and vice versa? To Edward, everything that happened below Central was almost too much to bear remembering and yet he couldn't forget, not even a single detail, except the details of that last transmutation. It could not be measured in any way… how could this be equivalent?

Lifting his hands he covered his face. His mouth twisted into a grimace and his teeth ground together as he shielded himself. A sharp whimper caught in his throat and he took a deep breath.

Lowering his hands at last, his fingers, even the injured ones, clutched onto the bedding. "I'll try. I promise that much." His voice was shaken. He felt like a child before Mustang, felt like the same little boy who sobbed so heartily after a serial killer nearly killed him. He was terrified to tell Roy anything and terrified not to.

"That'll do for now I suppose…" Roy replied but hesitated to give in and recount the details. He adjusted the blankets after pushing up in the bed so he could sit. It was a little more difficult than he'd expected, more painful at any rate and he seemed to just be looking for more ways to delay the inevitable by also taking his time with a long drink of water.

Finally he nodded, "It was him… Bradley. I suppose you'll want as much detail as I would hope to get from you for your own… well…" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair and noted that in the morning he'd need a bath. His hair had that slightly dirty, oily feel that made him feel grimy and grungy. That feeling reminded him of the days he'd spent on the battle field in Ishbal.

"I sent Hawkeye to warn Bradley of my intentions while I infiltrated the house to draw him to the wine cellar. I'd gotten the blue prints of the house from the architect who'd built the place. Once Bradley was down there I sealed the door, locking us both in and confronted him with everything, Hughes, the wars we'd been fighting, what he really was… all of it. We fought. He really was a monster and he…" Roy trailed off for a moment remembering how Bradley spoke of his ultimate eye and seeing Roy's alchemy at work thus he could interrupt the air flow so Roy couldn't manipulate it to make a flame.

It took him a moment but he finally pulled himself back to the present and explained it, how it happened, to Edward in as much detail as he could stand. He even told him that the Fuhrer's son had some how managed to get in through a hole he'd blown in the wall and as he recounted how the Fuhrer had killed his own son, he grit his teeth and clenched the bed sheets. He told Edward that he'd tried to catch Selim when Bradley had thrown him but it hadn't mattered, the boy's neck was already broken and his windpipe crushed. He was dead and after that, realizing or taking a desperate educated guess or gamble on the odds, he'd pulled what had turned out to be a skull from the boy's bag and held it up. He explained that the Fuhrer couldn't move and while he didn't really understand it at the time or even now, it worked in his favor and he basically burned the creature to death, until there was nothing left.

"How I lost my eye," He sighed, "It was when I was trying to carry Selim's body from the house. I made it to the front porch. Archer… I don't know what kind of strings he had to pull or if Bradley managed to find someone, but the half of his body that was missing was replaced with auto-mail. Anyway, he was there, don't even know how or when…" He smiled looking at his clenched hands.

"He would have killed me had Hawkeye not been running up the drive. She shot him but not before he fired. I don't remember anything after that, nothing but pain and falling… I think… I should be dead…"

That last bit was spoken barely above a whisper. He'd not really delved deep into the last conscious moment before waking in the hospital and he wondered now how it was possible that he still had a head when Archer had been that close and Roy had stared down the barrel of the gun. Unless… No, Riza was too good a shot and even if… Had Archer missed him and one of her shots passed through Archer and hit him? He stared at the sheets for a long moment unable to move past the question.

Finally he blinked and took a shuddered breath, deciding that even if that was the case he would never bring it up to her. She'd saved his life and he wouldn't be here with Edward or her if she hadn't taken Archer down.

"I woke up in the hospital after that." He said finally.

Edward was quiet for a bit. He was feeling ill again and he found it necessary to put his legs over the edge of the bed and then lean so that his elbows rested on his knees. Taking several soothing breaths he swallowed bile. The man, the Fuhrer, had killed his own son. Even if it wasn't his child by birth, it was still a child, and he'd strangled him and broken his neck. Ed thought back to when Lust had confessed to him how much she wanted to be human. Of all the Homunculi, she was unique in that endeavor. No one who could murder their own child could hope to be human.

But the death of young Selim wasn't even what made him so ill. He'd been so wrapped up in his own goals, in finding Alphonse and destroying the one in charge of the vile creatures known as Homunculi, that he'd put the General in even greater danger.

"A homunculus is the result of a failed human transmutation. The only thing that brings down their defenses is a piece of the person that was originally transmuted. That skull… it must have been the skull of the original. That's why it stunned him. That's why you were able to kill him through it." He said all of this looking away, speaking in a tight tone that sounded on the verge of breaking.

"I knew this information… and I knew what you were planning, you told me in the car… I should have said something…" he shook his head, "You figured it out on your own… faster than I even did… but I should have told you."

Shifting, he turned back toward the man. "You said you feel like you should be dead... it's the same for me, except… I _was_ dead." He uttered almost trembling. Letting out a breath he started from the beginning, explaining, firstly, about the underground city.

"There was a building with lights and music. Some kind of hall or music house. That's where I saw Rose. She was dancing and wanted me to dance, too. The whole thing just sounds like a damn dream." He briefly covered his conversation with Dante finally revealing the secrets of the Master of the Homunculi and then he told Roy something that he wasn't sure the man would even believe.

"Dante sent me through the gate. She used a baby to open the portal and my body got trapped somewhere between this world and the other side, but my mind and soul… they were drawn to the body of the Edward beyond the gate."

He was feeling sick again. Taking a few moments to explain to Mustang how the world on the other side of the gate was comprised of doubles to this world, his stomach tightened further and further. "I was only on the other side for a short while. There was an accident… one of the flying craft of that world came down on me… the body I was in died and my mind and soul went back through the gate until they reattached to my true body. And then I busted out of the damn place." His brow was beading over in sweat.

He paused. To explain more, would mean explaining about his father and now that he had time to think about it, the fact that his father had jumped bodies to prolong his own life and used the philosopher's stone to do it… what did that make Edward? Was his father even human after such acts and the transfer of bodies over and over again? In the end he decided that yes, his father was human because Alphonse was human. The body or vessel didn't matter – the only thing that mattered was the mind and soul.

Frowning but feeling a little less sick, he told the General about his father and how he and Dante were lovers once upon a time and how Hohenheim said that he'd never loved before Trisha. Ed spoke with a little bit of spite in his words even though he did, finally, believe the man.

He also explained a little about Liore and how the philosopher's stone had indeed been created and that the stone itself was part and parcel with Alphonse's armor body. He then went on to describe Envy's role in everything.

"I had him pinned and he kept changing his face to try to get a rise out of me. He even used your face at one point." Ed grinned slightly at the memory, "I punched that face the hardest." The grin faded away into nothing though as he described the horror at seeing the last face.

"It was the face of my brother. Not Alphonse. He… Envy was Hohenheim's child with Dante and he became the first homunculus. I guess he didn't like it when Dad got a new family because he made it his personal goal to kill me." Ed frowned and then met Roy's gaze. "And he did just that." Shivering a little he continued, "He made his hand into a dagger like I used to do with my auto-mail. Then he punched it through my chest." He took in a breath and held it.

"Alphonse saw the whole thing. I could hear him screaming and there was nothing I could do. I tried to blink, but I couldn't; tried to breath but only blood came out… tried to think, even, but I was gone." This bit was a whisper.

"He killed me," he choked as tears finally broke free. "It was so fast that I didn't even register the pain. All I could feel was afraid."

As Roy listened many questions spurred in his mind, questions better left for another time but ones that needed discussion and answers. There was much he didn't understand such as the gate, the transfer of souls to another body even though he knew a soul transmutation was how it was done it was the process that boggled him, and most of all this talk of what was on the other side and doubles of people. He also wanted to know more about this Envy person and even more about Hohenhiem and Dante. Especially where this Dante woman and the rest of her hoard had gone.

However, he didn't dare ask them of Edward, not now, not when the kid was speaking of his own death. He could guess what had happened. Alphonse, his body being the Philosopher's Stone had seen his brother's demise and the taken action of self sacrifice. Roy himself would have done it. He would have done it for any of his men, for Hughes, for the Elric's. It was only natural. He'd been trying to make a Philospher's stone years ago to bring back those he'd killed and those who'd died in Ishbal. But Alphonse had been the only one to truly succeed a proper human transmutation as far as Roy was concerned.

Alphonse Elric, the brother with his soul attached to a suit of armor, the bearer of the Stone had not only brought his elder brother back to life, made him whole again, but also managed to keep Edward's soul attached to his body, managed to keep Edward who he was. Edward Elric was intact in every way except for the loss in his heart, the loss of his little brother. Al was gone and had probably used all of the stone to bring Edward back thus losing himself. After that, even though it was conjecture on his part, Roy could guess what had gone though Ed's mind and heart when he awoke.

The General reached for Edward on impulse and a tugging grief in his heart. He was once again prepared for resistance and prepared to fight it no matter how it hurt him. "Al used himself and the stone to bring you back because he couldn't stand the thought of being alone without you in the world… Edward…" Roy wrapped Ed in his tight embrace as if letting him go would mean he might lose him to some fool's errand.

"Edward," He said again, "You tried to bring him back didn't you. It would only be in your nature… I don't know what happened… It would have been an endless cycle of you bringing him back and him in turn doing the same. I don't think even the stone could compete with the love and stubbornness of you both. I'm not saying better you than him, I could never pick which one of you to save and would give up my life so that both of you could live together… I'm saying that perhaps once in this twisted world, something else stepped in…"

Roy's hold on Edward tightened and he held the young man closer, petting his soft, blonde hair. He could smell the fresh scent of soap and shampoo and even felt prevailed to kiss the golden softness if only to pass along a sense of comfort and love, "You're not alone, Ed… I know I have no right to ask, it's completely selfish, but please don't try. Losing one of you is hard enough, losing both of you…"

He couldn't say anymore, he just wanted to keep what was left of the strange little group of men he had left, it was his family, Hawkeye and his subordinates, and Edward was part of it. Al had been too. They would do something special for Alphonse so his beautiful existence would not go unnoticed from the earth. He'd see to it.

He was lost in emotion and he felt his chest tighten to the point that he had to fight for breath even as he began to sob. When the man reached for him he almost pulled away but he was too embarrassed over everything to put forth the effort. He felt himself being drawn toward Mustang until he lay against the man's chest in a manner similar to a child clinging to their parent after a bad dream. He was surprised when he felt the man kiss his hair, but somehow it seemed appropriate and even though he would've normally thrown a fit over something so awkwardly intimate, he let it pass.

Despite the pounding in his ears he was able to concentrate on the man's words and he cringed and choked on deep shuddering sobs for the General was absolutely right, about all of it. The last thing he said however, made Edward break the rest of the way. His hands shook as he finally reached for Mustang's night shirt, his fingers clutching it in desperation and need. He pressed his face into the man's chest and continued to sob as he cursed whatever it might have been that stepped in and stopped the cycle.

Speaking wetly, chokingly, he tried to explain, "I d-don't remember what happened after I t-tried to bring him back. It sh-should have worked. I did everything right… but he didn't come back. My little brother. I couldn't bring him back."

For several minutes he lay there, clinging to this man who had taken him away from his home and made him a dog of the military. This man who'd always been there looking over him with a smirk or a sneer or a scowl and ever so rarely a nod of approval. It was strange, but, in this moment, Edward was forced to recognize that he needed this man more than anyone.

Still crying and trying to swallow his hiccupping sobs, he fussed and pulled back suddenly, escaping the man's arms. "When I sleep… I can see it… I can see that final transmutation. I n-never fully remember it in the morning, but sometimes there'll be a detail that stays with me… and it always involves blood."

Taking a shuddering breath, he reached for the hem of his tank top and slowly lifted it. When it was free of his shoulders and head he tossed it aside and then crawled closer to Roy again.

"This is all I have left of him and I don't even know how I got it." He whispered and then shifted so that his back was facing the General. Nervously he reached for his hair which was a partially restrained mess at this point. Pulling it around to the front of his shoulder he went ahead and removed the small hair tie letting it drop down into the covers of the bed.

It was hard to see in the dim light from the bathroom light left on across the hall but Roy could make out the transmutation circle of a blood seal. Gingerly, he reached out and traced it with his forefinger. His pills, which he'd been fighting against were beginning to take root within him and he had to hide a yawn from the young alchemist.

Still, the mark was a curious thing. Was it there to keep Edward's soul attached to his body or was there for another reason? Roy could only speculate and was thankful that it seemed to be tattooed or birthmark like so it wasn't in danger of washing away. Keeping Edward's back intact would be the most important thing from now on, just in case.

"It's beautiful, Edward. He left you something to remember him by." Roy said softly, hoping that that explanation would keep Edward from worrying or taking him down darker paths, at least for now. If he could get Edward to sleep a little, he could keep an eye on him a little before drug induced sleep overtook him and at least they wouldn't be alone.

Roy pulled Edward back against him and lifted his face enough to wipe his cheeks, "It will come back in time, Ed. Don't force it. For now just rest, that's all you need to do. There's nothing to worry about, nowhere you have to go, nothing that needs to be done, and no more monsters to fight. Besides, you've earned a good night's sleep and I bet Alphonse would be upset if he were here now. I bet he'd tell you the same thing."

He wanted to feel indignant to the man's words, especially when he'd mentioned Alphonse. He wanted to snap back at him, to tell him that the mark wasn't beautiful, to tell him that all it made Edward feel was shame for being alive… but he was too tired and there was just a small part of him that liked hearing the word 'beautiful', liked feeling that the blood seal wasn't something to be ashamed of.

He made a motion to move away from the General figuring he'd lay nearby until the man fell asleep and then he'd wander back to his room or maybe he'd continue his hunt for alcohol, the task which he'd originally set out for before taking a strange detour into the General's room – but even as he wiggled gingerly away from the man, he felt Mustang hold onto him tightly. It felt strange. Edward didn't like being held like this, or at least he didn't think he did. He couldn't even really remember the last time he'd experienced something like this.

Emitting a resigned huff, he gave up trying to escape and merely shifted so that he could tug at the covers until he was wrapped in Roy's bed sheets. Half lying on the man, his head resting on the General's chest, he snuggled against the warmth. It took only minutes after he lay still, for sleep to find him as his body was thoroughly exhausted. He was vaguely aware of Roy's heartbeat, and the feel of the man's fingers becoming tangled in Edward's loose hair. If he'd been even an ounce more awake he would have worried over how this sleeping arrangement would look come morning, but as it was he couldn't deny that something about this felt right.

Instinctively, Edward slid a bare arm around the General and clutched to the man's shirt. It was just as needful as when he'd clung to him earlier, but this time it was not as desperate.

Just before falling asleep he whispered, "Roy… don't leave me." It was barely audible and slurred from sleep, and after he'd muttered the last syllable he was gone.

"I won't," Roy promised as he felt Edward's body relax. He waited a few moments fighting the grips of his own sleep just to be sure that the young alchemist was truly sleeping. When he heard the even breaths, he pulled the blankets up around them both and closed his eye.

* * *

A/N: Thanks very much to those who have been reading and reviewing! We appreciate it very much. Much love and hugs!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The next morning Riza woke to the gentle chime of the door bell and Black Hyate's paws at her cheeks. "I know," she told the dog with a yawn and sat up. She was quick about getting dressed and even quicker to the door as the second ding dong came.

When she opened the front door, a dark, cloudy morning threatening rain and Lt. Havoc and greeted her.

"Good morning," She said quietly.

"Morning, how are they?" He asked as she stepped aside and let him in.

"Sleeping I suspect. I haven't heard a word from either of them since last night. Roy had a nightmare and tore a few stitches." She replied as he removed his muddy boots by the door. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and brown pants and carried the morning paper.

"The others are planning to come over but wanted to make sure it was alright with you first. Have you told him anything?" Havoc asked as she closed the front door.

"No and I would appreciate it if you hid that news paper." She said motioning for him to follow her into the kitchen.

"That's why I brought it in. I figured he'd talk Ed into going to pick it off the lawn for him but I didn't want to throw it away in case you wanted to see it."

Riza nodded and took it from his hands and hid it in the oven. "Since Roy can't get up except to go to the bathroom and Ed isn't likely to snoop too much in the kitchen, this should do for now. Have you eaten?"

"Nope, figured I could get you to feed me too." He said with a grin.

Riza smiled, "Of course. And we can tell everyone to come by once we see how the invalids are today. Just make sure you tell them not to say a word. Ed and Roy have enough to deal with at the moment."

"I'll pass that along. So what are you making?" Havoc nodded and craned his head as she went to the refrigerator. "We know what the General likes for breakfast but Ed… I don't think I've ever seen him eat breakfast."

"I'm sure he'll eat anything we put in front of him if he's hungry. Then again if he isn't he'll eat it anyway. I won't have him starving himself."

"How is he doing, staying here with the General?" Havoc asked quietly. "Are things going alright?"

Riza nodded, "Eerily so. I think it might actually be for the best, for the both of them. I was worried in the beginning but now… Edward was the one to pull Roy from his nightmare."

"Hm, that's interesting."

When Riza had finished making a small but well rounded breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice, she and Havoc headed to Roy's room. What they found when they got there was alarming. Edward lay in Roy's arms, Ed's head on Roy's chest like they were lovers. In fact Ed's shirt was gone and his hair splayed across the pillow and Roy's shoulder.

"Well, that's not something I expected." Havoc murmured.

Riza might have baulked at the inappropriateness of it but she held her tongue. After all, if Edward had wandered in of his own volition in the night and the General had been awakened and stayed awake enough to listen to whatever Edward had said or confessed and then been of some comfort to the boy… well, then, who was she to utter a word. There was, of course, a twinge of jealousy within her that the two of them had found comfort and perhaps confided in each other instead of her but she pushed it down. Eventually she would know what had happened to the both of them and until then she would continue to care for them as she had been.

Clearing her throat, she entered the room. Livi, Roy's cat trotted in after her and beat her to the bed. When the kitten curled up on Roy's chest and Ed's hand she told the kitten that she wasn't helping and only got a yawn in response.

"General," Riza said ignoring the cat and gently shaking Roy's shoulder, "General, Jean is here and breakfast is ready."

There was blood in his dream again but beyond that he could make out very little. Off and on he whimpered through the night but found something warm to chase away the real terror. It wasn't until he became aware of sounds and of Riza's voice, that he allowed his lashes to flutter open and closed. At first he was at a loss as to where he was, for he assumed he was in the hospital once again, and then he thought perhaps he was in the guest room at the Mustang home. However, after sleepily nuzzling into the soft warm as he woke himself the rest of the way, he realized he was not just in the Mustang home, but in Mustang's bed. And holding onto him!

In a flurry of motion he fought with limbs and blankets until he managed to slip away from Roy's embrace. Almost angrily he tore at the bed sheets until he found his shirt and yanked it down over his torso.

"Edward, calm down, everything's alright." Riza spoke gently but commandingly.

"No! It's not alright." He huffed. Not able to look the First Lieutenant in the eye, he charged, barefooted, past her and then past Havoc.

"Edward! Come on! There's breakfast!" Jean called.

"I'm not hungry!" Ed growled and raced onward until he came to the front door. The hinges squealed as he opened it and he supposed they must have thought that he was making a break for it. Presently Havoc came around the corner in fast pursuit. But really he needn't be so dramatic. The second Edward stepped outside he plopped down on the front steps wearing an expression of doom upon his face.

"Ed!" Havoc called and then his footsteps paused. Edward could just imagine the puzzled look on the man's face. He was probably expecting quite the chase.

Without saying a word, Ed lifted a hand, palm upturned, as if expecting something.

"Huh? Oh…" Havoc proved intuitive enough to deliver. He pressed a cigarette and lighter into the younger man's hand and then he sat down beside Edward. "So… what happened last night?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Edward uttered darkly as he lit the end of his smoke.

Havoc snorted, "Look, I know the General well enough to know that in any condition, he'd never take advantage of anyone. Stop making it sound like you two had sex or were fooling around." He nudged Ed's shoulder with his, "Although there will be plenty of girls jealous of you." He got a glare powerful enough to kill.

Roy, roused rudely by all the commotion, groaned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes out of habit. That was his first mistake of the day as he lay there gasping in pain and anger of his own stupidity.

Riza hushed him and gently pulled the bandages from his face so she could take a look. "You will have to retrain yourself-"

"I know!" He bit. "What the hell was all the fuss?"

"Ed slept in your bed last night and we, Jean and I, saw." She explained.

Roy, if in a different mood might have smirked and made some sarcastic quip but at the present he was in pain and foul tempered because of it and the rude awakening. "Let me guess, Ed-"

"Ran from the room in a startling display of his usual embarrassed self. I am taking that as a comfort." She replied, "It's good to see that he's not completely lost himself… Did he wake you?"

Roy shook his head as she began to doctor his face, "No, I was awake when he came in. He thought I was sleeping and got something off his chest. After that we talked for a little while and he fell asleep." He was quiet a moment, "I didn't have the heart to send him back to his room."

"Then he told you what happened?" She asked.

The General nodded, "He did and I will tell you, but I have questions first."

Riza smiled sadly and rested her hand on his for a moment, "I can wait. I am just glad that he's confiding in someone, I wish you would do the same. It might do you some good, you know."

"Riza," Roy said quietly, "Alphonse is… we have to do something, hold some kind of funeral. I don't care how much it costs, I'll pay for it but I'm not good at making the arrangements and I think it should be in Resembool. Not here. Would you help me? It needs to be done not only for Al but for Edward."

Riza looked at their hands and nodded, "I will start looking for something appropriate this afternoon."

For most of the day, Edward found himself either holed up in the guest bedroom or outside walking around the house, exploring the backyard and the few trees therein. He tried climbing one just to see how his leg and arm worked and he fell on his ass. After that he sulked on the back deck while thinking of all the ways that he was now disadvantaged. Closing his eyes he replayed all the times when he'd been in mortal danger and his automail limbs had provided the key to his survival. Would he die now that he was without them? Would he suffer some accident and pass away like no one of importance? And damn it all, if that wasn't a pleasing thought! The General and his subordinates were right to worry about Edward, for even now, he thought of death as something sweet; a way to be with his brother again. And how cruel of him to think such a thing. Alphonse had given his life for Edward when he really shouldn't have and now here he was fantasizing about death.

"I'm sorry, Al. It's hard to see life as a gift right now. I'll… I'll try harder." He whispered and pulled his knees to his chest. He realized that he was probably extra surly today because of last night and this morning. Part of him was still in shock over what the General had told him and what he'd told the General, and the other part of him was still shaken by the fact that he'd spent last night in the arms of a man. Havoc would tell him to chill out, that it was no big deal. But that's not how it felt to Edward. He didn't know if he was just scared of being that close to someone or if he was merely embarrassed as hell. In truth he suspected it might be something else altogether. Whatever it was, it left Edward feeling vulnerable and ashamed.

Standing up from the deck, he walked out toward the shed, which was located in the far right corner of the yard. When he reached it, he was surprised to find it unlocked. He would have thought a suspicious man like Mustang would keep even the most trivial of things under lock and key. As he pulled open the door he could hear it creak like breaking bones. From what he could tell, it must have been a while since anyone had been out here. Rays of light flooded in around Edward's body, illuminating the dark, dusty room. He could make out a lawnmower, several rakes, a large tool box and a variety of other equipment all meant for lawn care and the outdoors. He even saw pruning sealant for tree limbs. This intrigued him for some reason and he read the can carefully. It looked somewhat like an oil can… and it was used for severed limbs.

Glancing about he finally found the large pruning sheers. He picked them up and then in a strange trance he pulled the door to the shed closed and then felt his way in the dark to the back wall. He turned and pressed his back against it then slid down. Still holding onto the pruning sheers, he just sat there. An hour must have passed. It was cold now; the sun had most likely gone down. And still he sat there.

"Alphonse…" he whispered, "we were supposed to get our bodies back, remember? Both of us. Not just me. I don't deserve this, Al."

He opened the pruning sheers and wedged his right arm between the blades.

Roy hadn't exactly been with it for most of the day and part of that he had a hankering suspicion was due to how frequently and adamant Hawkeye was with his pills. It was almost as if she either wanted him to be too loopy to care about anything or asleep and therefore not awaken enough to cause any sort of trouble. However, when dinner came and there was still no sign of Edward, as far as he knew, he put his foot down.

"Where is Ed?" He asked, "I haven't seen or heard from him all day." He asked pushing her tray of supper away.

"He will be along when he gets hungry enough." She assured him and set the tray over his lap.

Roy perked the only brow that was probably still intact. "I know you are hiding things from me, Hawkeye, the least you could do is find Edward and remind him to come in or come out for dinner… I'm really starting to worry. I don't think he should be left by himself."

He wasn't sure what it was he was trying to accomplish when he first started applying pressure to the sheers. He wasn't scared of the pain, but it did break his heart. Unlike the random pain he'd felt when he busted up his knuckles in ignorance, this pain was calculated and slowly progressing as the blades bit deeper and deeper. Was he really going to trim off his limb?

Possibly.

His skin broke under the mounting pressure and two big slits formed within the perfect virgin flesh. He hissed but continued to cut until he was most likely damaging muscles. It suddenly occurred to him that this would leave a scar at best and it would result in more auto-mail at worst. He thought about Roy's words from last night, that Alphonse would be upset with him if he could see how poorly Ed was taking care of himself. Would Al really be upset?

His eyes widened and he gasped, "Al!" Shaking all over, he tugged the sheers away from his arm and threw them across the shed. His arm seared in pain and finally it frightened him. How deeply had he cut before his senses returned?

Sloppily getting to his feet, he moved to the door, tripping over random implements including the sheers which nicked his foot. At last he opened the door and in the pale orange hue of the outside light over the deck, he was able to see just how bad his arm was. He'd been injured worse than this in the past, but the fact that this time it was self inflicted, he was stunned. There was so much blood and it continued to pump out through his fingers even as he tried to apply pressure to the wound. His clothing, which had once been muted colors, was now striated a deep crimson color from his drizzling blood.

Strangely enough, he thought of Roy as he stood there shamefully bleeding all over himself and the backyard. He'd told Roy that he was intimidated by him and that he sought his approval. One thing was certain; he didn't want Roy to find out about this. He couldn't face being a disappointment to the living as well as the dead. Maybe Hawkeye would keep this a secret just as she'd done concerning Edward's blood seal.

"Damn it." He groaned and forced himself not to cry. Pulling off his shirt, he wrapped his arm in hopes that he would be able to keep his blood off the deck. Tentatively he made it to the door and then knocked with a trembling hand. It took a few moments but eventually Hawkeye appeared before him. Looking off to the side, embarrassment making him feel dizzy, he spoke in a tight voice, "I… I had an accident."

Roy was right, Riza had to admit as she took in the boy's bloody hands and freshly stained shirt. She never minded when her superior was correct in his worries or assumptions, even educated guesses but for once she'd hoped the General would be wrong.

Tired and nerves worn thin, she let fears and anger take the reigns. Her hand slapped across Ed's soft cheek true and hard. There would be a mark if the sting in her hand was any indication.

"Accident?" She asked rhetorically, roughly grabbing Edward's left elbow. Her fingers gripped him hard and she pulled him into the house and into the bathroom. "You are lucky I have enough field medical training to take care of this." She growled, shoving him down on the toilet. She made certain to block his escape path while she pulled the first aid supplies from the medicine cabinet. She grabbed some towels and the peroxide, shoved them into Edward's hands and pointed to the bath tub.

"Start disinfecting that wound and think about how you are going to explain yourself to the General. Really, Ed, what were you thinking? I know Alphonse is gone but do you really think he would want this for you? And what of the General? How do you think he will feel knowing that you were out in his back yard trying to kill yourself when all you had to do was talk to him or even to me? You could yell or scream or cry like a baby even tear the house down and we wouldn't care so long as you aren't hurting yourself. Don't think we don't know what it is like to lose someone. Now maybe we haven't had someone as close as Al was to you, but we still feel and understand the loss. And we've all sacrificed for those we care about and they have done the same for us… Damn it, Edward, what about Winry or Pinako or Mrs. Curtis? Don't you think they would suffer for your selfishness?"

He was stunned. His cheek throbbed in pain and it distracted him from the deep cuts in his arm where he tried to sever muscle and bone. Jaw clenched, he sat there, holding the peroxide and towels but making no motion to disinfect himself. His hair was damp from blood and sweat and it fell down before his face as he bowed his head. He listened to Hawkeye as she roughly dug through the first aid kit, seeking out a suturing needle and sterile thread. She cursed softly under her breath and Edward bowed his head even further.

"You're right." He whispered. "It was selfish and stupid and I'm _not_ the only person in the world to suffer…" looking up suddenly, he grimaced, "But I'm not the ignorant little child that you think I am! Don't you get it, First Lieutenant? It's _because_ of all the things you were just talking about that I was able to stop when I did!"

He was breathing harder now and forgetting to put pressure on the wound, "I thought about Alphonse, and even though the one thing I want most in this world is to be with him again, I knew he'd hate me if I didn't stop. And… and I thought about the General…" he looked down again and lifted his right hand to cover his eyes as he began to cry.

"I though about how d-disgusted he'd be with me." He shook his head and tried to wipe at his tears. "So I stopped it… I… I don't want him to know! He'd hate me!" He spoke with a frantic voice. Swallowing a lump in his throat he finally leaned over the bathtub and worked to disinfect the wound. He'd really made a mess of himself and through tear blurred eyes he could see fresh rivulets of blood pouring down from the surprisingly deep gashes.

"I'm sorry, Hawkeye." He whispered. "Just please don't tell him."

Roy hadn't gotten where he was by ignoring the things that went on around him and part of knowing things entailed having a good ear and an inherent talent of eavesdropping. His parents had hated this little talent of his and while growing up it hadn't always been that he was trying to overhear their private conversations, it was something he just did automatically. In fact, Roy had a hard time not overhearing things and tuning people out. His mother had always said his ability to eavesdrop would get him into trouble one day but so far, and the career path he'd chosen, it had only been beneficial.

It had been strange to hear a knock at the back door and he and Riza had figured it to be Edward. He asked her to tell the young man that he didn't need to knock, that he could go outside and come back in when ever he wanted but instead he heard an alarming sound almost as if someone had hit another and from there on the words spoken had him moving from the bed.

Whatever had happened, Roy knew Edward had done something clearly stupid, something that had pissed off and scared Riza enough for her to lash out. The woman was blunt but she was also kind and always had been with the Elric's. Of course she was firm and acted as an authority figure but never once in all this time had Roy ever known her to be so angry that she'd actually yell at Ed and let alone strike him.

It was slow going, moving from the bed and out of his room; painful, exhausting and he was forced to grip the door frame when he reached the bathroom. At first he couldn't see much, Riza was in the way but then she moved and he saw blood. Roy took a sharp breath, steeling himself and forcing a sense of calm as he assessed the situation and what he'd overheard.

"One thing you have always been slow to pick up, Edward, is that I have excellent hearing and if there is something to overhear, I will usually catch it." He eased into the bathroom and reached for the needle and sterile thread Riza was fixing up. "Get some rest, Hawkeye, I'll take care of him."

"You can't have good enough depth perception." She snapped, "And what are you doing out of bed. Go back to your room!"

The General perked a brow, "I appreciate your help, 1st Lieutenant, but since you won't tell me what I want to know and now have taken to ordering me around in my own house, I'm going to have to pull rank. Wash up and go get some sleep. Edward and I aren't children; we can take care of ourselves for a little bit." She started to protest but whatever she wanted to say died on her lips.

"Call for me if you need anything." She said, her voice dripping with guilt and hurt.

"I promise," Roy replied and moved so she could slip passed him. When they were alone and he heard the door to Riza's room close, he closed the bathroom door and moved to the toilet. Putting down the lid, he sat down and picked up where she left off in preparing the needle.

"You really scared her, Edward." He looked to Ed's arm and shook his head as such ghastly wounds, "She's helping me make arrangements for Alphonse. It's not an easy thing to do… I would really like to not have to make them for you as well. Funeral arrangements on top of what she's already carrying around…" He sighed, "So, we have to make a deal now, Ed. We have to take care of Hawkeye because for better or worse, we're going to be stuck with her trying to take care of us for awhile. We should make it easier for her. Now, disinfect that arm so I can patch you up."

Ed kept quiet. He'd never witnessed something like that before. Sure he'd seen Roy speak sternly, and he, himself, had been the target of some rather intense yelling sessions, but Edward had never seen the General be so curt and cold and exact when directly addressing Hawkeye. There had always been this vague notion in Edward's mind that the General and the First Lieutenant had a soft spot for each other. Hell, he thought their retirement plans included marriage to each other, and so to hear the man pull rank and order her to leave them be; Edward was fairly shocked. Also he was fairly guilt ridden.

Wincing as he poured a fresh stream of the Hydrogen Peroxide onto his arm, he nodded and whispered, "Roy… I deserved the slap. I deserved everything she said, but I want you to know that I wasn't actually trying to kill myself." He frowned and leaned against the side of the tub from where he was presently kneeling. "I just wanted everything to be back to normal." It was spoken softly and with a thoughtful tone.

"There was a pair of sheers so I thought… I'd go ahead and trim myself, just like a damn tree, you know. It all felt very natural, almost expected." He let out a bitter laugh and then shook his head. "I'm pretty stupid, huh?" He finished dousing his arm and then quickly fashioned a tourniquet out of a bandage roll from the first aid kit.

Roy was worried, deeply and terribly worried. It was easier to be worried for those around him rather than deal with his own emotions and fears and he realized that but there was something healing that he recognized in being needed by others as well, even if it was just to sew up an arm or to listen.

He pulled Ed's arm toward him and sighed. It took him a moment, a moment to get his bearings, but then he began to stitch. "I should have given you some whiskey or rum, hell even vodka or brandy to help dull the pain. I'll give you one of my pain pills instead. I know I'm not supposed to but one isn't going to kill you and I think you've taken that prescription before…" He sighed again ready to address things Edward had said.

"She shouldn't have hit you, Ed. I understand why she did because I can see it from her point of view, her fears and concern for you but I can also see it from your vantage point. Yes, it was stupid, too stupid for such a smart kid like yourself. But also understandable considering that normal for you is having an auto-mail arm and leg. How many times did having auto-mail save your life? It's only natural to feel the need to go back. So, I won't lecture you for that. But for Hawkeye's sake, please don't do this again."

He paused to make sure he was sewing correctly, "It's been some time since I've had to do this. You'll have a scar but I'll try to keep it minimal… Listen, Ed, I want you to know that I've never pulled rank on Hawkeye before and I didn't do it to be hurtful. I did it because she needs the rest. She's been through a lot… I didn't tell you everything… She didn't do it on purpose, it was an accident and if she'd not killed Archer I would be dead." Roy stopped sewing with his now half bloody hand, gripped Edward's hand.

"One of her bullets went through Archer and that's how I lost my eye. She thinks I don't remember and she's scared to talk to me about it. She's afraid I will hate her or turn her out but the guilt is killing her. Riza's like us, she's got no one else but this little troop of soldiers and I think if she thought I knew it was her, she'd even leave us herself. I don't want that but I don't want this either. I hate it, Ed, I hate that she's in so much pain and scared, I hate that she's lashing out at you too." He shook his head, "I'm calling Armstrong and the guys over tomorrow. She needs some time for herself, she was shot too after all."

Edward grunted at the pain as the General began stitching him. It hurt, true, but it was negligible compared to the bone quaking moments when his auto-mail arm or leg would be shoved back into its port and the organic nerves would reawaken him to what it felt like to be ripped apart. He thought about telling the General that he didn't need booze or a pill, but, be it his present weakness or his need to forget, he found himself nodding. He thought a pill sounded pretty damn good right now.

He couldn't help but marvel at how truly understanding the General was being to him. Ever since Edward had showed up at his bedside in the hospital, the man had been affectionate, almost clingy. In some ways it was unnerving but at the same time, it seemed to be something they both needed. Edward was particularly thankful for moments like this when the man confessed to understanding his motives. It made the young alchemist feel a little less insane and quite frankly, anyone who randomly decides to prune their body with a pair of rusty sheers should be locked up.

As the man told him about Hawkeye and about the bullet, Ed felt a chill run through his body. He held his breath as Roy finished speaking. It was the First Lieutenant's bullet that took Roy's eye… it felt so wrong, so very wrong. He could only imagine how guilty she must feel. She idolized Roy. She would do anything to protect him. Knowing that she'd cost him half his sight and left him disfigured… it was a wonder she was able to function around the General at all.

Quietly, Ed pondered everything. His fingers tightened around Roy's hand where they were still touching.

"Roy? You love the First Lieutenant, don't you?" He said it softly, not meaning to make things awkward. He already knew the answer but he wanted Roy to confirm it and if the General did love her, then he was going to tell him to hold her down and make her understand that it wasn't her fault. Edward knew something about guilt and he knew that it could eat at a person faster than acid.

Painful thoughts flooded him from when he'd started to tell his brother that there was something he needed to ask him, and then he hadn't been able to spit out the words that spelled his guilt – and poor Alphonse had assumed something almost worse. 'Do you hate me, Alphonse? Do you hate me for what I did to you?' Just voicing those words had helped Edward be able to breathe again. Maybe that's what Riza needed to say to Roy, or maybe Roy needed to assume the question and just give her the answer.

Not waiting any longer for Roy's reply, Edward continued. "If you love her, then don't let her question herself. Don't let her carry that around. It hurts, Roy. I put Alphonse in a suit of armor and it took years before I could ask him if he hated me for it. She's just as proud as I am, Roy, and if you leave it up to her, it'll be years before she takes the initiative to heal. "

Roy nodded; it was these little moments, tiny ones like these that Edward seemed almost sage like. Almost as if he were an old soul… Sometimes Edward was very much a child and others he was an adult with wisdom and life experience beyond his years, too far beyond his years and often Roy had questioned offering Ed the opportunity to seek out that which might have made him whole, dragging him into the military. It seemed sometimes that he'd stolen Ed's childhood from him and been an aiding device to help Edward grow up too fast.

Selfishly, secretly, Roy was in some ways glad and thankful for it. It was a terrible thing, this gladness. He didn't know if it was his pride in helping to shape or be of influence to such an individual or what exactly and there were moments where he felt deep regret and guilt. If it hadn't been for him…

The General sighed heavily and got back to work, stitching the wounds. "I will take time to talk to her. You're right, I do love Hawkeye but not in the way you might think. She is a beautiful, talented, and intelligent woman and if she weren't my subordinate things might be a little different. I might have snagged her and married her long ago."

He smiled, "I have entertained taking her out, spoiling her, kissing her and such, but when it comes down to it, at the end of the day, she is like a sister, a dear friend, and I think we work well this way. I will always care for her, protect her, and be there for her when she needs me but I really think she would be happier with someone else. She deserves better than me, someone not so broken or who will cause her so much trouble."

Roy smirked as he turned Ed's arm over and began working on the other side, "What I am about to tell you doesn't leave this room and you can never mention it to anyone else. Hughes was the only other to know but Hawkeye and I did talk about the possibility once, a few years ago, back when you and Al first came to Central. I can tell you one thing, that woman is a fantastic kisser and I would know. But in the end, we decided we were better off as we are. It's comfortable and familiar and works for us. Besides, she scares the hell out of me and I have a habit of pissing her off."

Like a child during story time, Edward ate up the man's words. His face maintained a rather indifferent expression but that was to hide the pain he felt at each pinch and tug of the needle. His eyes widened at the mention of Hawkeye being a fantastic kisser. Perhaps it was because he was a teenage male or perhaps it was because he simply couldn't imagine the stern woman looking all pouty going in for the kill, either way he immediately began to visualize it. He thought of the two of them at a diner, looking all starry-eyed across the table at each other. Then he pictured the General driving her home and escorting her inside her military quarters. He probably got pushy, he seemed the sort, and gripped her shoulders before dipping down for a kiss.

"Huh…" Ed emitted thoughtfully as he continued to spy on the imaginary Roy and Riza. He could see Roy's hands moving along her body as his lips parted and he went to work with his tongue. Roy's eyes were closed and his mouth, though very occupied, was tugged into the faintest of smiles. Riza submitted to everything and even whimpered as the man touched her chest.

At this point Edward shook his head to ward off the images. His cheeks flushed and he heated up from embarrassment. What the hell had he been thinking? Hawkeye would never just stand there and whimper. And Roy, while he was a total bastard, would never go straight for the breast on a woman that he respected to fully. But he couldn't deny that there was something oddly appealing about the fantasy and that was what angered him the most; that he'd been enjoying it!

"You guys are probably better off just staying friends anyway. People do stupid things in the name of love." He finally uttered, eager to move his thoughts away from the image of Roy now nipping at her neck and licking along the line of muscle. "And you don't have to worry about me telling anyone. The only person I would have been tempted to tell that to is Alphonse," he let out a soft breath, "so your secret's safe with me." Finally looking at the General again, he took in the amount of bandages necessary to cover the damaged parts of his face.

Without willing it, his imagination edited the figures in his fantasy and the General now wore a large black eye patch and Riza… she looked shorter for some reason.

"Ah!" Ed yelped suddenly and pulled his arm back. "Sorry," he breathed and looked at the needle dangling on the thread, "that one went a little deep. Didn't really hurt too much but you startled me." He explained and then just closed his eyes. "I need to take a bath after this… so hurry up and finish." It was a weak command, seemed more like a plea. His body felt incredibly heated and in some places their was pressure and he didn't really give a damn what was going on; all he wanted was for the General to get the hell out of the room so that Ed could take care of whatever needed taken care of.

At first Roy was shocked and worried that he'd hurt Edward, which had never been his intention, and while he was admonishing himself for it inwardly, he couldn't help but feel that Ed's reaction was a little bit… strange.

"Sorry, I'm trying to do this as gently as I can." He apologized and reached for Ed's arm again only to find it trembling slightly. But was the trembling from the pain and blood loss or was it a little more than that. As he went to finish, his eye darted to a place it had no business looking and he almost smiled but bit his tongue to keep it at bay. Ed had quite the imagination he'd learned over the years and it was only natural, he supposed, to have fantasies but it did make Roy a tad bit uncomfortable to realize that Ed might have been letting his imagination get carried away with him where he and Riza were the subject matter.

Well, he thought, he would just put it out of his mind and not mention it. Ed was human after all and a young man in the years where hormones began to rage and take the mind to places best left private except with a lover. Then again he had to wonder about Edward's… did he or had he ever even kissed a girl, held a girl's hand, even taken an interest in one long enough to wonder what it would be like to be with her? Did he fantasize about women and… Roy stopped his thoughts there. He didn't feel that it would be appropriate for him to even imagine or wonder if Ed touched himself and he'd always kind of thought that if a sex talk was needed that Hughes would be the one to give it. Maes was better at that sort of thing, talking to people about certain personal issues that was. Roy knew he would just feel awkward and probably make the situation worse. He could give a little advice here and there but nothing in detail.

Oh how this was uncomfortable. He quickly yet delicately finished with Edward's arm and rose to wash his hands. "When you're finished, come to living room and bring the first aide kit with you. I'll have some medicine there for you." And with that, he left the young man to his business, heading down the hall to living room where he poured himself a scotch and put on a record to listen to. Then he found his medication and set it on the side table with a glass of water for Ed.

The second the door closed, Ed breathed a sigh of relief. His pulse speeding up, he rushed over and locked it. He knew he probably shouldn't do that since they both thought he was suicidal, but he didn't really care right now! He wanted privacy, damn it! Resting his forehead against the door he sulked and ground his teeth. The General had seen it. There had been a moment, a second, when the man's eye darted to Edward's crotch. Right after that, the bathroom space filled with tension and Edward trembled and shivered almost as if he were freezing when in reality he was burning up so bad he thought he might actually have a fever.

Weakly he walked to the bath and ran the water. Keeping his right arm close to his body and protecting it from further harm; he finished removing his clothes and then stepped over the lip of the tub. He looked down and watched the water washing blood and grime from his feet, shuddering at how much of a mess he'd really made, and then he hesitantly examined himself. His manhood was only half mast now and he was thankful for that. Maybe it would just go away if he left it alone. Most of the time, when he found himself inexplicably turned on, he would ignore it, or seek out other ways to relieve himself that didn't involve his lower organs. Al didn't know it, but many of their sparring matches were started because of Ed's libido.

There were times however, that his body demanded to be touched. It was always awkward and the little bit of pleasure that ejaculation provided him was outweighed by the amount of guilt he always felt. It wasn't fair that he had a body capable of feeling pleasure and release, a body that could create children, a body that would grow and change… when his brother had nothing but a suit of armor.

He turned off the water when the tub seemed full enough and as he sank down into the water, he whimpered. All at once he felt like a needful child. He whimpered because he wanted Hawkeye to wash his hair; whimpered because Roy had seen his erection; whimpered because his arm really did hurt; and whimpered because his body, it seemed, just wouldn't be satisfied with neglect tonight. Reaching down with his left hand he fondled his penis in the water, half playing with it – half shoving it away like something to be forgotten.

Still, something was different this time compared to all the other times he'd found himself in this situation; never before had there been something to fixate on, something to envision and fantasize about. Usually his erections were random and felt like an itch that needed to be scratched rather than a sexual desire that needed to be brought to fruition. But this time, as he began to run his fingers up and down the firm shaft, he saw them again: Roy and Riza. He saw the General lift the smaller person up into his arms. He carried the blond to the couch and, as if Ed's fantasy were a camera angle, everything suddenly focused on Mustang. He could see the man's hands pulling away clothing between the two of them, and he could see the man parting the slender legs.

"Hah!" Ed gasped loudly, so loudly that he gasped a second time in pure shock to how loud he'd been. "Damn," he bit and held his breath for several moments as he began to buck up into his hand. The fantasy increased and he could see Mustang's shoulders glistening with sweat as he thrust into the body beneath him. Each time he imagined the man's motions, he would thrust upward himself as if trying to make fantasy and reality match up. Things began heating up and he felt intense shivers of pleasure wrapping around his core until he had to breathe and the resulting moan echoed throughout the bathroom with such force that he was sure Roy had heard.

"Bastard! Damn it, Roy!" He ground his teeth as he came. His body thrashed as he drowned in the sensations of orgasm. It had never been like this before and when he finally lay still, he felt exhausted and restored all at once. Guilt was fast to move in, however, and he abandoned the feeling of ecstasy so that he could focus on cleaning himself and washing all the blood away.

When he was finished with this, he stood and grabbed a towel. Surprisingly, his legs were still a bit shaky. Once he was dry, he wrapped a towel around his middle and snuck back to his room where he donned a pair of loose sleeping pants and an over-sized t-shirt. Then he made his way to see Roy.

Roy found himself on his sofa staring at the bottle of scotch he'd grabbed from the small bar cabinet in his living room. With his focus not solely Edward and having walked and moved around his body reminded him of just how bad of shape he was really in. He was exhausted, the pain had flared to new heights, and while he knew he should never mix alcohol and medication of any type, he'd popped a pill and downed it with second glass of scotch.

A third and fourth glass was needed when he heard a faint moan over the record that played a favorite tragic ballet. A fifth found it's way into his stomach when the ill timed ballet fell into a softer section and he caught Ed's annoyed orgasm and his name uttered from the young alchemist's lips.

Drink six and seven followed quickly as he tried his best to ignore his curiosity of why Ed felt the need to call him a bastard and curse him at completion of masturbation. He just didn't want to know why or how, there was something distinctly wrong with that combination. Sure, Edward was of age and he was a handsome young man but… No, they were superior and subordinate, friends, and it didn't go beyond that. Besides, Roy was twice Ed's age and he was sure Ed liked girls. Hell, he was sure he, himself liked women. He'd been with enough of them and even though he knew that men sometimes found love together and he had never had a problem with it… Somehow the very notion of him and Edward was just… They would kill each other.

Yes, they would kill each other because Roy would never be able to not tease Ed in some fashion and Ed would always fly off the handle and this was the most ludicrous train of thought he'd had in his life.

He needed another drink and when that wasn't good enough to chase the peculiar thoughts from his head he found himself downing an eleventh glass only to look up and see the blond standing before him.

Roy snorted because he couldn't help himself, "So, how was the bath? Feel better now?" He grinned, "But the most important question is, why are you annoyed with me while jerking off in my bath tub?" Shit! It just flew out of his mouth and he was going to die, he just knew it. He'd better take another drink this was going to hurt.

* * *

A/N: I promise I'll have the next chapter edited and posted within the next couple of days. I've been having allergy issues and now it seems that I've caught a cold. Thank you for patiently waiting, cookies or cake for all of you, and now I am going to go find some cold medicine, tea, and curl up on the sofa with the cats.


	8. Chapter 8

Ed stood there completely mortified. The smell of alcohol was strong in the room and he figured that the man was drunk. Yes, that had to be it! That was the only reason that General Mustang would say something that completely out of line!

"Roy…" Ed seethed and clenched his fists, both fists – even though it caused tremendous pain to shoot up his arm, "I would rather have heard you call me a microscopic bean, than hear you talk like that about me." His bangs fell down over his eyes and as he continued to speak in a cold quiet manner that was barely loud enough to be heard over the record.

"I apologize for my behavior, General; for my arm… and for the other thing. I didn't mean for you to hear," his teeth ground together as he spoke, "if you really wanna know why I said your name, it was because I was angry with you. Angry that you saw me in such a state! And angry because I knew you'd be listening for me! You told me earlier that I often overlook your hearing. Well that the first time in my life, I've even been loud and it's just my damn luck to have a professional eavesdropper just down the hall!" His quiet demeanor turned to yells and yet he was restrained.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Roy, if you do anything to me; it's piss me off." Ed grumbled and turned his attention to the side table. Reaching down he grabbed the large white pill and popped it in his mouth, then he grabbed the bottle of Scotch and drank from it. There was about half of a bottle left and he couldn't help but wonder how much had been there at the start. The liquor seared him on the inside and as he pulled the bottle from his lips his face puckered a bit and he growled at the intense heat, but the taste itself was not unpleasant.

"I think you've had enough, General." Ed said with a half smirk on his lips, "I'll just hold onto this for you." Moving at a slow, unsteady pace, Ed started down the hall. He'd just lashed out at Roy and said things that he didn't feel were true. It was all from anger and embarrassment. Even now he felt his heart pounding in his chest and his cheeks were flushing from more than just the presence of alcohol in his system. He was so ashamed.

Roy shook his head and groaned as he pushed himself off the sofa. "Wait, Ed, come back. I'm sorry, it just slipped out of my mouth." But Ed was already half way down the hall. Roy left the record playing and the light on to follow the blonde alchemist.

It was slow going and he limped the whole way but he followed Edward into his bedroom, not Ed's room, but his. He thought it a little odd that Ed should choose his room over the assigned guest room and he managed to get there before Edward could slam the door in his face and lock him out.

Once he was in side, he closed the door so Riza wouldn't overhear. He reached for the bottle of scotch, "I really am truly sorry, Edward. It's just a bizarre situation and I don't know what I was thinking, probably wasn't. I promise it won't happen again."

He held his hands up in entreaty but dropped them when pain and imbalance from drinking too much made his head spin. He limped toward the bed and sat on the edge.

"You don't have to apologize for anything, it's a natural thing. I'm happy you felt comfortable enough to do it in my house. I was a little worried that you weren't normal in that aspect. But you're a healthy young man after all." Fuck here it came, the thing he knew he wasn't going to be good at.

"Look, its fine and I'm sorry I said what I said. And I really wasn't trying to listen in; I put that record on so I wouldn't. It was a poor choice in records. You have my word, I won't tell a soul living or dead, anything and I'll pretend it never happened. Just don't be mad at me, please. I don't really like it even if you are rather adorable when angry. And please, don't drink that. It's not good to mix medication with liquor. If you want a drink tomorrow, I'll give you one, but not tonight. I don't want you to get sick."

He shook his head for he was a damned babbling mess and far less eloquent than he should have been.

Of all the opponents, human and homunculi, which he'd ever faced, he didn't think there was a single person that could make him more furious or vulnerable than this damn man. His intentions were good and his smile was charming, but he was unpredictable.

Ed stood still, cradling the bottle of Scotch, while he listened to the General. So, touching himself was healthy? Ed wasn't so sure. And then came the man's plea for him to not drink anymore.

"Heh, you're worried about _me_ mixing medication and alcohol? What about you? You look like a teetering ogre!" He uttered a frustrated growl and then took a deep breath, "Fine! I won't have anymore tonight. But if I'm going to abstain then so are you." He plopped the bottle down onto the man's dresser and then moved toward the bed, sitting down beside the General.

"This is really awkward." He stated and then sighed, "I didn't even want to do it… I tried to ignore my body, but I…" no, he couldn't tell Roy about his fantasy, about the way he watched Roy's broad shoulders sheen over in the sweat of his effort. He couldn't tell him about how his hand and hips worked together to match the thrusts of the fantasy Roy as he penetrated the person beneath him.

Immediately his face flushed and Edward looked away. Gritting his teeth he said quietly, "I'm not really angry at you, Roy. I'm just… really embarrassed. No one's ever heard me before… not even Al."

An Ogre? He didn't look like an Ogre, he was far too handsome, even in this state, and just when he was about to argue the point Ed started talking and it wasn't comfortable. He eyed his Scotch longingly.

Roy sighed and wet his lips. At least Ed wasn't mad at him, that was positive. But he had to clear this up because there was nothing to be ashamed of and he didn't want any more bad experiences to leave Ed any weirder than he was.

"Don't be ashamed, everyone masturbates. The body needs that kind of release and sometimes… I can't believe I am trying to explain this to you. You've got a lot of emotions raging within you. You can only ignore so much for so long before the body takes charge and demands for a release of some kind and sometimes it manifests in ways a person thinks is tacky or wrong but it's natural and it's okay… It's so like you to have to learn it the hard way and not at all like me to have to explain it. Hughes would be better at this; he could always explain things and was much more comfortable doing so... sometimes too comfortable." He really wanted a drink, he wanted to finish that whole bottle never mind the horrendous hang over he would have in the morning.

He ran his hand through his hair, "I'm not good at this so just know it's fine, I won't tell, you're a normal young man, and I think we both need a drink after all. Just one, only one. Then it has to be put away in the bar so Riza doesn't find out because she'll shoot our toes off if she does."

Ed was still trying to wrap himself fully around the man's words when the call for more alcohol was heard. Tentatively he moved over toward the bottle of Scotch. As his hand closed around the bottle neck he went ahead and took his drink, guzzling down an amount that he was sure could equal a glass or two. When he pulled it from his lips, he found that his tongue was numb and his belly felt completely on fire. Bringing the bottle over to Roy, he handed it to the Flame Alchemist and waited for him to swallow down his own portion of the amber colored liquid.

When Roy was finished, he took it back into his hand and headed toward the door. Pausing in the doorway he turned and looked at Roy. "You said you're not very good at these kinds of talks, but… it, um… it did help. So, thank you for that." He bit his lip and sighed, "See you in the morning, Roy. Sleep well."

With that he turned, not even waiting for the General to protest. Back in the living room, he tended to the record player, killed the lights, and then took a last long drink of the scotch before recapping it and putting it back where it belonged in the bar cabinet. As Edward set the bottle inside he was a little taken aback by the volume of bottles the General had.

Each label was something different and Ed imagined that a great deal of them had been gifts for the holidays and various other occasions. That still left quite a few that Roy had acquired on his own. How often did this man drink? Ed was curious but not about to rush back into the General's room to start yet another awkward conversation.

Instead he just closed the door and then curled up on the couch. There was a blanket nearby and he pulled it over himself. Tonight he would sleep here. Hawkeye would see him first thing in the morning since she would have to pass through here to get to the General. Edward wanted to apologize to her; that was one reason for choosing to sleep here. Another reason was because he couldn't face his own room right now, it felt too restrictive, and he sure as hell couldn't face the General right now.

Edward didn't understand his little fantasy and he didn't understand how he was feeling, and even though Roy seemed painstakingly tolerant of such matters, Edward didn't want to burden him. And, there was always the possibility that Ed would get hard again and no matter what the General said, it was damn embarrassing and he refused to be put in that position again.

Roy sat alone in his room for several minutes before he decided that he needed to go to the bathroom and he needed to find a little something to eat and to drink some water so tomorrow wouldn't be so bad.

He managed to clean up the mess of blood and put Ed's stained shirt in the hamper while he was at it. He hurt too much to really do it but he didn't like leaving messes like that lying around.

Getting to the kitchen was rather troublesome. He was moving around in the dark and bumped into a few things along the way and some of that was due to the wound in his leg making him limp. When he'd eaten a piece of bread and had a glass of water he decided that he didn't want to simply return to his bedroom and try to sleep, no matter how exhausted he felt. So he tried the living room. Perhaps a record or the radio might provide some kind of distraction. However, he went to sit on the sofa, he found a small body in the way.

Damn, he thought, realizing it was Edward and that Ed was quite literally out. He didn't want to wake him and make him move, he'd been there first. Roy's only choices were to return to bed or to sit in his favorite chair. He didn't think his body would appreciate sleeping in the chair where he couldn't lie flat and he really didn't want to be lectured. So he dragged himself back to bed and lay down to stare at the ceiling.

He slept deeply thanks to the pill and the alcohol. Slowly waking from a dreamless void, his eyes fluttered open revealing only a blur of early morning light mixed with the darkness of the room. He could hear someone moving around. "Roy?" He whispered and found his throat to be very dry and sticky. He needed water.

"No. It's me." A soft feminine voice replied and immediately Edward sat up and rubbed at his eyes.

"Hawkeye…" he cleared his throat as best he could. "C-can we talk for a minute?"

She looked a bit concerned but nodded. Even in her civilian clothes and with her hair tugged back in an unprofessional pony-tail, she looked very official. Moving to the couch and sitting at the far end, she angled herself so that she could sit properly and still face Edward. All this protocol exhausted Edward and he really didn't feel like she needed to trouble herself with keeping up appearances to someone like him, someone who didn't really put stalk in the military.

As he scooted down the couch so that he could be closer to the woman, his arm began to ache horribly but he ignored it for the time being. "Um…" he wasn't sure where to begin, but as he opened his mouth to say more, Riza interrupted him.

"I shouldn't have hit you, Edward. I apologize for my behavior and I assure you, it won't happen again." Her tone, though laced with emotion, came out very strict and cold, as if she were treating this as some damn Military briefing.

"Well… actually, I wanted to say thank you." He paused for a moment and then continued in a soft voice, "I promise I'll take better care of myself. I know you've got your hands full with the General; you don't need me adding to your worries."

He sat there, not able to face her for several moments half waiting for her to say something and half waiting for her to leave. Finally when she did neither, Edward raised his eyes to meet hers and he saw true softness there in her brown orbs.

"H-Hawkeye," he spoke softly, "please don't worry too much about me. Don't forget that in order to take care of the people you love, you have to take of yourself as well." Where the hell did that come from? It felt like something that Teacher would say or maybe even Hawkeye, herself! Yet, he meant it and felt that it was true. He'd often been told that the only way he'd help Alphonse get his body back was by making sure to take care of the bodies they had at present. It was a bittersweet thought.

Her face softened further as a tiny smile tugged at her lips. "I know that, Edward. Thank you." With that she stood once more, this time her demeanor a bit more relaxed. She looked to be heading to check on the General.

Acting on impulse Edward stood on his wary legs and then darted the few steps to catch up with her. He moved around in front of her and then hugged her. His arms trembled as he held onto her. He must have seemed just like an infant as he embraced the woman who had slapped him just the night before. Lifting his chin, he avoided smothering himself in her bosom and instead pressed his face to her chest, the place just over her heart. To his relief he felt her arms encircle him and she held him back for a few moments. They didn't say anything as they mutually eased their grips and let go. As Edward stepped aside, he could feel his face blushing.

She ventured out of the room, leaving him to think about everything on his own. Damn. He wanted a cigarette so bad right now. And some pain meds while he was at it; his arm was starting to really throb, especially after that hug. Surrendering a sigh, he decided that he might as well take care of one of those things, and headed down the hall to his room. When he passed Roy's room, he peeked in and saw the man just starting to wake up. Asshole probably didn't even remember anything from last night… at least that's what Edward hoped. Rushing on to his room, he quickly found his cigarettes and lighter.

It still didn't feel right smoking in the bedroom, so he slipped back to the living room where he curled up on the couch and proceeded to make himself high on nicotine.

Roy didn't want to wake up. His head hurt, his body screamed from moving around more than he should have the night before, and he was still tired. Riza was at his bedside ready to change the dressing for his face and asking him what he wanted for breakfast. He didn't really want breakfast; he felt sick but knew he had to eat something.

"I'll just have some toast." He replied and she went to work on him, "And my medicine." She nodded and quietly doctored his face. When she moved to leave the room, he caught her hand.

"Riza," She paused and looked back at him but he tugged in askance to have her sit on the bed beside him. When she did he wet his lips and did exactly what he and Ed had talked about the night before.

"I know, Riza, I know it was one of your bullets." She stiffed but he shook his head, "No, don't go, it's alright. I don't blame you and I could never find fault in the woman who saved my life. It was an accident and I would rather lose an eye than my life." He smiled and brushed her bangs from her eyes, "Stop carrying so much guilt. I still want and need you at my side. We are friends, family; don't let this accident stand in the way of that. I'm not. Just help me recover and move on so I can do what I do best."

"I'm so sorry," she breathed on the verge of tears.

"Don't cry," He said softly, it would kill him if he saw her cry. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here for Edward and neither would you. Nothing's perfect, the world's not perfect. But it's there for us, trying the best it can; that's what makes it so damn beautiful. You can't be perfect, Riza, I can't be, no one can but we do what we can and make do with the rest."

He smiled, "Go make breakfast and call the guys over for me, I don't want to be stuck in bed all day again and Ed needs contact to keep his mind from wandering to destructive places. More than that, you need some help today because I want you to take it easy."

The quiet of the morning was shattered just before noon. Just like clockwork, Mustang's men arrived in force: Breda, Falman, Fury, Armstrong and Havoc. Prior to their arrival Edward had managed to brush through his hair and pull it into some sort of ponytail. He'd also let Riza wrap his injured arm with gauze so that they wouldn't see the extent to which Edward's whim had damaged him.

As he pulled on a pair of loose fitting lounge pants, he realized that he really didn't have any clothes here. It didn't bother him, but he hated being made to look even smaller because of the loose fabric hanging off of him.

With a sigh, he ignored the pants for now and pulled on a tank top that fit snug enough. About an hour before the boys arrived, Riza gave him a pain pill and it helped relax him as well as helped sap some of the ache away.

Ed was sitting on the stairs on the front porch when the group of men arrived and then poured out of the overstuffed vehicle. He gave a soft wave. Amazingly enough Armstrong kept it together, while Breda, Fury and Falhman seemed skittish around the young blond alchemist. He couldn't help but wonder if the General had informed them of the cause of his arm bandages. Were they disturbed by it? Oh well. It was when Havoc made his way to the steps that Ed stood up.

"The General and the First Lieutenant are inside." He stated the obvious, but it was the only thing he could think of that would get them moving along, leaving him alone.

Except Havoc… As the man with the cigarette dangling from his lips, tried to pass, Edward reached out and gently grabbed his arm. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Jean Havoc gave a guarded nod. Again Edward wondered how much he knew and if he thought Edward to be suicidal.

"Sure, Ed." He finally stated.

Leading Jean over to the side of the porch, where they could sit down, Edward sighed and stammered lightly, "I smoked the rest of my cigarettes… c-could you maybe…" before he finished asking, Havoc pulled out his pack and handed one over to Edward. "Thanks."

"Damn, I can't believe you've smoked both packs already. I'll have to get you some more when I run errands for Hawkeye today, but you owe me, kid…It's weird, of all the nasty habits I thought you'd pick up, I sure didn't think it would be mine." He muttered a lazy grin on his face.

With a frown Ed replied, "Were you thinking I'd pick up the General's nasty habits instead? Womanizing and drinking?" He focused on the tip of his cigarette as he lit it up. With a slight break in his frown he offered, "Or maybe you thought I'd start ripping off my shirt at the drop of a hat and scaring people with my fabulously flexing muscles."

Jean laughed, "You know, as long as I have known him, I still don't get why he does that. Must be some kind of quirk and his little sister is just as strange." He sighed, eying Edward. "You know, you should come with me today. Looks like you need some clothes and I bet some other things and it might be good for you to get out of the house for a bit."

Roy was glad to see his staff arrive. Breda explained that Havoc was on the porch with Edward. Falman, seemingly down to business all the time, gave Riza what he'd complied on Roy's morning request, via the phone, of possible things for Alphonse's funeral. Roy wanted a decent head stone and a decent casket, not coffin, but a nice one to bury a little of Al's things in. Fury stood to the side muttering to Armstrong about Ed's arm and Roy, who was now dressed in comfortable house clothing, sat on the sofa.

"How bad do you think it really is, the General didn't say." Fury asked the tall, bald man.

Armstrong looked to Roy in askance. Roy sighed, "It's not as bad as it looks, but I wouldn't stare or mention it."

"Should one of us stay to help watch over him?" Armstrong asked.

Roy really considered it but he didn't have an extra guest room and he didn't like the idea of his men sleeping on his sofa when they could be sleeping in their own beds. He shook his head. "Frequent visits will suffice. Besides, he can't get too far or be missing for too long without knowing that I'll send people after him."

"How's he been doing here? I mean, other than cutting his arm?" Fury asked worriedly.

Riza stepped in, "He's been acting like a cat. He mostly keeps to himself, wanders about the house or outside, and sometimes slips in to see what we are doing."

The room fell silent for a few moments and then Breda said, "It's just not going to be the same is it?"

"No, it's not." Roy replied. Thankfully Havoc poked his head in.

"Hey, I was thinking that I'd take Ed with me when I go run errands for Hawkeye. Mind if I take him to get some clothes?" Havoc asked.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea." Roy replied. It might be good for Ed to get out and away from the house for a little while and focus on something else for a bit. "Just take him to the bank and pull some money from his account. Last I saw, his balance was well enough that he can afford a shopping trip. And if he wants to go to a book store or some place like that, take him and don't ask questions."

"Make sure he gets something other than black tank tops, jackets, and black pants, please." Riza added almost motherly.

Havoc grinned, "Got it. Oh, do you have that list for me?" She nodded and he followed her in to the kitchen.

"Mind if I go with them?" Fury asked. Roy shook his head and Fury joined Ed on the front porch to wait for Havoc.

Ed shifted back and forth on his feet. He'd finished the cigarette a little while ago and was waiting for Havoc to slip back outside so that they could go run a few errands. There had been mention of him purchasing some clothes and since he was presently without much of a wardrobe to choose from, and he only had house shoes to wear, he decided it might just be a good idea after all.

Taking a deep breath he folded his arms over his chest as he continued to wait. At last the door opened but it was Fury who slipped out, looking expectant and nervous. "You coming along?" Ed asked and offered the man a smile, it was very small but it was genuine.

He nodded and looked ready to say something when Havoc suddenly emerged from the house and clamped a firm hand down on Fury's shoulder. "Shall we?" Jean grinned, baring his teeth amidst the cigarette that still dangled there.

They went to several places that Edward had neither need nor interest in entering. These places were where Hawkeye had business and Jean alone ventured inside while Ed and Fury sat in the car. It was at the third place where the two of them were left alone that Fury finally turned in the seat so that he could face Edward, who sat alone in the back.

"I think this is the last stop for errands for the First Lieutenant… so, after this, is there anywhere you wanted to go?" He asked in a nudging tone, as if he were trying to coax Edward toward some specific place.

It worked.

"Well… there's this shop. I've only been there a few times. I don't even know what it's called but it does baked goods. Al always talked about eating there when he got his body back." His throat tightened. "A-anyway, they have really good chocolate mousse pie… I haven't been able to stomach much but that sounds… well I think I just need some." Maybe it was just comfort food, or maybe it really did sound like something he could keep down without having to run to the bathroom. Either way, when Fury had asked where he wanted to go, that had truly been the first place he thought of.

Before they started running errands, they had taken Edward to visit Central Bank and he'd withdrawn a fair amount knowing he'd be buying clothing, shoes, and cigarettes, but now he just wanted to hand it all over for the most perfect chocolate mousse pie. Somehow it seemed that would make everything better.

"We can do that!" Fury looked almost relieved. "I know the place you're talking about. Funny you should mention the chocolate pie… that's the General's favorite, too."

"Is it?" Ed lowered a brow and half smiled.

Fury didn't have time to reply as Havoc reappeared, carrying a few large envelopes intended for the 1st Lieutenant. As he seated himself in the car he spoke in a puff of smoke from the eternally present cigarette, "So where we headed, kid?"

"I want pie." Ed said flatly.

"We can do that. But let's do that just before we head back to the General's place. Where to in the mean time?"

"I guess… clothes. And cigarettes." Edward said this almost as if he regretted bringing it up. He didn't want to go clothing shopping. He just wanted his normal clothes and shoes. It felt like such a waste to actually spend time seeking out such things.

An hour later, Edward presented a variety of clothes to his 'escorts.' Both men scrunched their noses at the selection.

"Uh, Ed… did you ever think of wearing something other than black?" Fury asked in a tentative voice.

"But that's what I like." Ed replied somewhat confused. "It's my money. I can get whatever I like."

"Well, yeah, but…" Havoc shrugged, "how can you say that's what you like when you haven't even tried anything else? I mean look around this place… it wouldn't kill ya to branch out a little."

Narrowing his eyes, Ed's hands clenched. "Is it because I cut myself? Is that why the two of you are treating me like a fragile child? Or did the General put you up to this?"

"Nothing like that!" Fury explained nervously. "Hawkeye just…"

"Edward, it's _because_ you're not a child that she wants to see you looking more like an adult. Get some nice slacks, you know. A dress shirt or two. I mean, you can get whatever you want, kid, but if you want people to start taking you seriously then you need to present yourself in more than just black on black on black." Havoc chided him softly but insistently.

He held his stance for a moment and then let out a surrendering huff. His shoulders sagged and he set the assortment of black clothing down on a small side table meant for newspapers and coffees. Part of him was angry that his choice of clothes was being called into question and another part of him was filled with sorrow. It was just Ed now. No large suit of armor for him to hide behind. Just Ed and apparently he needed to look distinguished and mature because he was all grown up now. Grief and loss... those tend to make a person grow up and Ed knew all about that.

Not even talking to the other two, he went through the racks of clothes and picked out the most stereotypically 'mature' clothing he could find. By the time he had found a decent selection, he was holding four dress shirts, two of them white, one of them a soft mauve color, and the other an steel grey; four cotton undershirts, all of them white and form fitting; two pairs of dress pants, black and straight and narrow; two suit jacket just as black and narrow; a pair of brown slacks with matching brown vest; and even a couple of neck ties, one of them purple and one of them black. Honestly he felt like he was shopping for some sort of social event, but he didn't care. He wasn't buying these clothes for himself; he was buying them to keep Hawkeye and everyone else happy. If he could keep them happy then they would just leave him be. But that wasn't what he wanted either.

As he handed his selection to the tailor and was led to the fitting area, his brow furrowed and he had to fight had to keep from letting his lip tremble. This was the first time in his life that he didn't really know what he wanted. He didn't have a goal, didn't have a course of action, didn't have something to keep him on track, to keep him positive, to keep him pushing forward. He was so utterly lost.

Watching the tailor working to shorten the pants and take in the waistline, he felt like he was a stranger to himself. Havoc poked his head around the corner and mentioned that the tailor might want to leave an inch or two to grow since 'Edward might rediscover food at some point.' Great, so the General had told them that he wasn't eating. Or maybe they could all just tell from the way his collar bones were starting to protrude. Didn't matter; Ed just stayed quiet and nodded at Jean's suggestion.

An hour later, he had purchased every piece and even picked up two pairs of shoes; a pair of soft brown loafers and a patent leather pair that held such reflection it might as well have been a mirror.

From the clothing store they made a quick stop at a tobacco shop where Edward proceeded to buy a carton of cigarettes - the expensive kind... the kind the General smoked. Havoc muttered a comment about it, but Ed ignored it. He wasn't trying to be a copy-cat, and he wasn't trying to impress the man. He just happened to enjoy the smell a bit better and this way he could... share if the General was so inclined to smoke with him.

As that thought crossed his mind though he cringed thinking about how angry he still was over the man's comment. But more than anything he couldn't believe the General had been privy to something so intimate. Always having prided himself on being such a private person, this situation bothered Edward to his core.

The last stop was the cafe and bakery. With a deep frown Ed told the men he could handle this alone and then slipped inside the small establishment. Just like the time he was here before he was immediately overwhelmed with the sheer magnitude of sweets and pastries that lined the glass display case. Blinking at the assortment he must have looked stunned for the young girl behind the counter smiled and offered her assistance.

"You see anything you like?"

Ed nodded and then pointed at a tray of petite fours with shaved chocolate slices garnishing the top. "I'll take two dozen of those." He said, thinking randomly that he might surprise everyone back at the General's place with some treats. "And... I want a chocolate mousse pie. But I don't see any..." he started to get upset as he looked this way and that.

"Oh, don't worry. A woman bought the display pie just a few moments before you came in, but we have two more made up in the back, chilling in the freezer."

"I'll take both!" He spat out before he realized what he was saying. Blushing in embarrassment he looked away. She emitted a soft chuckle and told him that she'd get everything packed up for him. When she had loaded everything into a crate just to make sure that nothing was squished, she told him the price. It was fairly expensive but it didn't really register for Edward. The ends justifies the means when it came to food.

Roy was glad to hear Havoc, Fury, and Edward come home. They had been gone most of the afternoon and Riza was already starting to get diner ready. Falman was in the kitchen with her lending a hand where he could, where she would let him. Breda was napping in the corner of the living and had been for the last hour, which had left Roy with Armstrong.

Alex Louis Armstrong was a man of many talents, many that Roy had depended on and found of great value over the years. While the tall, muscular man knew he would never replace Hughes, he was still a good and valued friend. However, no matter how Roy asked or tried to weasel some kind of information, even the tiniest bit, Armstrong wouldn't budge. Hawkeye must have him by the balls to keep him quiet at a time like this. Or perhaps, Armstrong thought he was protecting him again. The man had withheld information from him before…

So as they sat playing a rather tense round of chess, he was thrilled to see the blonde alchemist and the rest of his staff shuffle into the house. Havoc and Fury seemed to be helping Edward carry in quite the load and thankful for the distraction, Roy leaned in his chair to try and get a peek into the closest bag carried by Fury.

Hawkeye came from the kitchen then, "Fury would you mind helping Falman set the table and keep an eye on the oven for me?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Fury replied setting the bags he carried down, "Oh, Ed, did you want me to take the stuff you got from the-"

"Yeah," Ed replied and held his bags up for Hawkeye. Almost as if they spoke telepathically or had some unknown silent language or understanding, the General watched as his 1st lieutenant took a seat on the sofa and accepted the bags. She inspected every article of clothing, holding them up to the amazingly tolerant blonde.

Roy had to admit, the clothes looked decent in every way of a blossoming young man but they bothered him. He had to wonder how much of this shopping trip was Hawkeye influenced or guilt tinged and how much of it was Ed getting himself much needed new attire.

Riza smiled approvingly, "These are all very nice." She lifted her hand brushed his bangs from his face. "After supper and your bath, I'll trim your hair for you. You have my word that I won't take too much off."

Well this was just… Edward wasn't a doll and he wasn't… He could see maternal behavior flooding out from Riza and Ed was vulnerable enough to allow it he supposed and after last night… But Riza was giving him play by play instructions, babying him. While Ed was allowed a time of mourning, if Riza kept up like this, Ed might never take control of his life again and Roy felt that was worse than the boy's demise.

Ed needed something, something familiar, something that spoke Edward Elric. Even though his little brother was gone, Roy wouldn't let Ed lose himself in grief and think that his life had only been for his brother, that he'd not be much of a person without Alphonse because that just wasn't true.

Armstrong said something about the clothing, about Edward's fine choices. Ed seemed a little agitated by the comment and stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it faster than anyone could be surprised or protest.

"Since everyone is either occupied or under strict orders to keep me in the dark about everything," Roy looked pointedly at everyone concerned except Edward, "I'm going out back for some fresh air." He started to get up from the sofa and found Armstrong's strong hands helping him up.

No one said anything and didn't seem too inclined to stop him despite his blatant pout. Annoyed, Roy hobbled stiffly to the back door and took a seat at the deck table. Havoc joined him, letting the screen door slam. He lit a cigarette and passed it to Roy before lighting one for himself. Roy perked the only eyebrow he seemed to have left but accepted the cigarette none the less.

"A pep talk from you?" He asked Havoc.

Jean snorted, "Me, nah, you're better at them anyway." He nodded toward the shed, "Is that where Ed…"

"Yeah," Roy replied grimly. "Armstrong's already been out to seal it shut. If Ed gets into it again, he'll have to use alchemy to break the seal and we'll know it was him if the seal is broken."

"Sounds good, but how are Breda and I supposed to do the yard work if we can't get in?" Jean asked.

"Has she got chores for all of you?" Roy asked referring to Riza.

Havoc chuckled, "You could say that, don't worry it it's nothing we can't handle and it's just little stuff here and there."

Roy didn't like that either. He could hire a lawn service to tend to his lawn when he couldn't. He already had a house keeper who came once a week to take care of the laundry and little things here and there and during the week he tried not to make too much of a mess. What was Riza trying to do exactly? She couldn't work her guilt away, couldn't plan it or busy it away. She had to face it and she knew that he didn't blame her…

The General sighed, "So if you're here to help can you do me a favor?" He asked and took a long drag off the cigarette.

"Probably," Jean replied hinting that depending on what it was he might have to clear it with Hawkeye.

"Tomorrow go back to that place Ed bought his clothes. They should still have his measurements so get him pair of black pants, tank top, and black jacket. The jacket doesn't have to look the same as what he used to wear, just as close as you can get it. I don't care what Hawkeye says, Ed is still Ed and I won't have him lose what little is left of him. He needs things that remind him of himself, things that had some comfort however small. I'll give you the money for it after dinner."

Jean nodded, "I can do that. Although, it's our fault he didn't get his usual-"

"Because of Riza." Roy interrupted knowingly, "And because of her, Ed gave in. That's fine, but he's got to have something that he can identify himself with."

Ed watched the General go and then breathed an unconscious sigh of relief. He hadn't talked to the man since their ordeal last night. In truth Edward still felt ashamed and he hoped that Roy was perhaps drunk enough to have forgotten certain moments and things overheard.

Managing to slip away from Hawkeye's attention for a moment, he carried the baked goods into the kitchen with Fury's help. They didn't chit chat as the young man located a serving platter and set the petit-fours out on it. Slipping one of the chocolate mousse pies in the back of the freezer section of the fridge, he then set the other down in plane sight inside the chilled box. He figured that one of the pies was fair game but the other one was for his own selfish consumption.

Returning to the living room with Fury, he presented the serving dish to everyone. Riza nodded at him as if making sure to show him how much she approved. Though it felt strange to take cues from this woman, it felt good to know that he was making her happy. His face still vaguely stung from her hand slap and he was going to make damn sure that he did everything in his power to please her.

"Thought you guys might like something sweet." He explained mildly and then sneakily vanished, heading to his room. Moving fast, he abandoned the small wardrobe he'd just purchased. He wanted some time to think and breathe. Hawkeye's words came to him and he wondered if he actually wanted her to trim his hair. Whether she took little or took a lot, he wasn't sure he wanted to lose any of it! Even the frayed edges… it was all part of who he was and with the way Hawkeye was talking, he worried that in time there would be nothing left of him that was the same. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad… but his hair? It didn't need a trim. As he shook his head and reaffirmed to himself that he wouldn't let her touch it, he heard a soft pawing at his door.

"Come in?" He called and cocked his head.

"Need help!" Fury called back, his voice muted and muffled through the thick wood door.

With a raised eyebrow, Ed took up from the bed, where he'd been sitting and pondering his hair. A moment later he opened the door and understood why Fury needed help getting inside; the young man was carrying everything that Ed had bought at the dresser and shoe seller earlier that day.


	9. Chapter 9

Ed didn't know why he suddenly decided to open up to the Master Sergeant, but it kind of felt good talking to someone who wouldn't mother or father him concerning his injuries. He removed the bandage wrapping and showed the man the parallel cuts that the General had sewn up the night before.

"Did it hurt?"

"The cutting or the stitching?" Ed asked with a certain degree of nonchalance to keep himself just aloof enough so that he didn't have to feel it all over again.

"Uh… the cutting." Fury clarified.

"I didn't really feel it at first to be honest. I was just sort of focused on the end result." He felt his face heat. This was a tender topic no matter how he might try to downplay it. "The First Lieutenant slapped me when she saw it." He gave a brief chuckle. "_That _hurt." Ed went to work rewrapping his arm, allowing for a tiny sad smile to linger on his lips. Fury offered a little chuckle, though it sounded timid and almost scared as if he worried that he wasn't allowed to find humor in such a thing.

Ed continued, so as to east the awkward tension, "And then of course Roy's stitch job. It wasn't exactly a feather tickle." Ed chuckled again, but Fury didn't.

Glancing over at Fury who was sitting beside him on the bed, he noted the man's wide eyed expression. "What did you just call the General?" Confusion was dominant in his features.

"I…" Ed paused. What the hell had he said? Shrugging he explained, "I just called him his name."

"That's just… well don't you think that's weird?" The mousy radio operator commented.

"Not that weird really. I'm no longer a member of the military… so I call by him by his first name." Ed shrugged and Fury seemed to be still a bit taken aback. "Well, I'd call him by rank, but Bastard General just doesn't have the same ring as Bastard Colonel. So now it's just Roy." He smirked.

Fury finally allowed a small chuckle to escape lips. He asked if the General found it odd at all and Edward shrugged. "Honestly Roy hasn't said a thing about it. His mind's elsewhere right now. But I don't think he really minds. He's been… clingy." Ed lowered a brow as he mentioned this.

"Clingy?" Fury repeated the word innocently, hesitantly.

"Yeah," Ed nodded and then thought privately about what he meant exactly. The General wasn't hanging on him constantly or always calling for him; nothing like that. So why did Ed see him as clingy. It was probably because Roy seemed to be more concerned with Ed's grief than his own. In some ways it felt that the man wanted to fill the void left by Al's death, but Edward also had to wonder if the man wasn't trying to have the blonde alchemist take away some of the heartache caused by Maes' murder. Was that some form of equivalent exchange? Whatever it was, it was damn clingy.

A short while passed before Ed and Fury rejoined the group in the living room. Just as before, the group was a bit awkward, a bit tentative with him. Fury was the only one aside from Riza, who didn't stare are his bandaged arm. With a soft huff, he looked around the room only to notice that Roy and Havoc were no where to be found. Probably out smoking somewhere he guessed. Immediately he craved nicotine.

Roy was still a bit miffed about the day when Armstrong was sent to fetch he and Havoc for dinner. And as he limped along, he let the flares of pain spiking and throbbing within his body fuel his scowl as he sat at the kitchen table. Riza merely shook her head and began to serve everyone.

After supper he was in for a surprise with the pie Ed had bought that afternoon. It was his favorite and Roy smirked when he learned it seemed to be Edward's favorite as well. It was interesting that they had such little things in common.

But finally everyone cleared out and Ed went to take a bath. Riza bustled about the kitchen washing dishes which left him alone in the living room with his thoughts and after some time, he spoke his mind.

"Hawkeye," He called out.

"Yes," was her reply from the kitchen.

Roy scoffed, "You could at least be in the same room with me to talk." Without a word she came from the kitchen and sat in a chair across from him. She looked weary still and was doing what she could to hide it. But he knew her better.

He cocked his head to the side, "I don't want you to cut Edward's hair." Riza seemed a little startled and while he had her attention he continued, "I know you said you were just going to trim it but he should come to that decision on his own. His clothes are nice, things I would have picked out for him myself, but…" Roy sighed, how was he going to do this without her taking it the wrong way?

"Riza," He said gently, "You're pushing him in the right direction but too fast."

"He needs to make changes, grow up, and –"

"I know but he needs to find some of those things on his own don't you think? Else will he really believe that the person he is when the debris settle is himself or someone who was fashioned from what others wanted him to be?" This is what had Roy worried the most. This what the General could foresee as a potential explosion of terrible if not disastrous consequences in the future. Right now their first priority was to keep Edward safe, help him heal, and keep him near by at all times to make certain no one could do more damage.

Riza nodded, looking at her neatly folded hands which lay in her lap, "When I see Edward-"

"It's in his eyes, all loneliness, the pain… You look at and get drawn in. You want to ease him, make that look go away but you never really know how and it's so powerful you feel like it'll pull you in and drown you… I know." He barely whispered as he heard Ed moving about the bathroom. He certainly didn't want Ed to overhear this conversation.

Roy smiled, "I have an idea, why don't you turn in early and I will have Ed finish the kitchen and tend to me for the evening. It'll give him something to do and me someone to pick on."

Ed thought it was strange how utterly exhausted he was when he finally sank into the water. His right arm ached horribly and he wanted one of Roy's pain pills but was too afraid to ask. Maybe he'd sneak out and have some alcohol later to make the bitter ache go away.

Talking with Fury had been interesting and kind of refreshing for him today. Honestly it had surprised him that he'd been willing to share so much with the man. He'd shown him his arm, talked about the pain, made light of it, talked about Roy. That part had been really strange. Somewhere along the line Edward had become comfortable, if that was the right word, with Roy Mustang. This scared him a little and he blushed as he thought of the previous night's bath and his sudden need for release.

"Damn it." He growled low in his throat, anxious to keep his voice from being heard. The next sound that came from him however was a soft whimper as he realized that his body was growing hot and hard at the renewed images of the General pressing down and into the frail blonde body before him. Slender legs wrapped about the man's waist and long slim arms clutched to Roy's back.

Furious with himself for thinking about Roy and Hawkeye in such a way, he pushed the images from his head and reached down tentatively to try and pinch the base of his penis. It was bad enough to have succumbed to this last night and he was damned sure not going to sully Hawkeye's image with such thoughts all over again tonight.

After squeezing for a moment he managed to ease his arousal. It was something he'd had to do a time or two before when his stupid body got hard but there was no practical way to get release.

Washing his hair quickly he finished with the bath and then wrapped a towel tightly about his waist and sought Hawkeye, hoping that she would disinfect and wrap up his arm again. His search led him to the living room where he found the General sitting on the couch sipping amber liquid from a tumbler. Ed frowned and huffed, "Eager for a repeat of last night, Roy?"

Suddenly very self conscious of just being in his towel, he clenched at it tightly and was about to turn and leave when his arm spiked in pain. "Tch!" He ground his teeth and paused. "How drunk are you? Think you can bandage me up?" His wet blond bangs dripped water down his face.

Roy looked Edward over from head to toe. It seemed a little odd to him that Edward would come wandering out in only a towel but he set his glass of brandy aside. "I'm not drunk, Ed. Go get some clothes on and bring the bandages." Before he could really finish the sentence, Ed was scuttling off.

The General didn't have to wait long before Ed was dressed and back, dumping supplies on the sofa beside him. Roy smirked and scooted forward a little. Looking at his stitch job now, it certainly wasn't his best but it was pretty good considering and he just wondered how bad Ed's arm was going to scar. Which in turn got him to thinking about researching something to help minimize scars and of course he wondered if there was something or something to be created and if it worked, would it work to help him as well...

With a soft sigh, he gently and securely bandaged Ed's arm. "Your new clothes looked nice," he said to fill the silence, "And thank you for sharing the pie. I haven't had it in awhile. There," He finished bandaging Ed's arm and sat back, picking up his tumbler, "So I'm giving you an option tonight. You can either take a pain pill or have a little to drink but not both together and I am only offering because you look like you need a little something for the pain."

He pointed at Edward then, expressing in all seriousness. "You are too young to be drinking, Edward, but I will allow it so long as you keep it in the house, tell no one, and I'm here to take care of you, got it? One or two here and there won't be so bad, but I won't let you become an alcoholic when you've still got so much ahead of you. I mean this Edward. So make your choice."

Ed was a little unnerved that the General had seemed to read his earlier thoughts. Grimacing he shrugged. There was a part of him that wanted to argue and demand both and there was another part that wanted to prove he wasn't too young – or little – and ask for alcohol, but both of these parts were tired and lost out to the more practical side. "I'll take the pill."

A few moments later he was swallowing down a fairly powerful drug, chasing it with ice cold water. Against his better judgment he remained there on the couch, sitting beside Roy Mustang, for several minutes. He felt awkward that he hadn't really spoken to the man all day and the few times they made eye contact, Ed had blushed and looked away. He was still angry about last night even though he thought he was over it. What he couldn't understand was why he was so angry. So what! It had been embarrassing but it was in the past now and it was nothing compared to the horrors they'd both faced.

At length he uttered, "I like pie." Nursing his recently bandaged arm to his chest he turned and met Roy's expression, "Fury asked me if there was something special I wanted today and I said that I wanted chocolate mousse pie. He told me that it was your favorite as well." His arm stung a little as he shifted his hips so he could better face the General. "So I bought an extra one. It's in the freezer, near the back. It's yours …whenever you want it." And then his face flushed red again.

_Well isn't that damned sweet of him_, Roy thought and took a drink. He savored the taste for a long moment then set his glass aside once again. "Thanks but it won't be as good if I eat it alone so you'll have to eat half." It sounded like a good deal to him since Ed was the one who'd bought it.

Roy took a deep breath and let it out. "Do you play any games? Card or board games?" He asked and smirked, "I don't know if I am reluctant to go to bed or just not that tired. Perhaps both, but I don't feel like sleeping and don't really want to sit in here alone. For once I have house guests. I'd at least like the chance to enjoy them while they are here."

There, he'd put himself out there for Ed to see a little hint and once again it was up to Ed to decide what to do next.

If Ed had felt awkward before, he felt a hundred times more right now. "I know some card games." He said quietly, "but they're nothing exciting. Just stuff Al and I picked up while on the trains. I don't know chess." He admitted at the end, somehow getting the feeling that the General was pushing him toward that game. He'd seen the nice board on the shelf with its various pieces all lined up and waiting to conquer the other. Chess was not a practical traveling game and therefore he'd never taken an interest. It hurt his chest to think that he would no longer need to travel.

Suddenly his throat felt tight and he let out a bitter chuckle, "You know what I really wish we could do?" He felt stupid, but he wanted to be honest with this man, "I wish we could just beat the crap out of each other." He smiled sincerely and elaborated a little bit, "Like when we had that alchemist's duel. But maybe this time we could leave alchemy out of it. We could just spar or something."

He sucked his bottom lip for a moment. "Guess it'll be a while though before either of us is ready for anything like that." But deep down Ed hoped it would be sooner rather than later because his body was losing focus and if everyone was so damned insistent on keeping him alive then he couldn't just sit still twiddling his thumbs while his spirit weakened and atrophied with his muscles.

At first Roy had been a little wary of Ed's fancy to 'beat the crap out of each other' but when it had been explained he could only find an odd sort of comfort in the idea.

"Sounds like fun." He smirked, "Let's make a deal, I'll do whatever it takes to get into sparring shape and in the mean time you can do a few little things for me. You're just not the type to sit and do nothing for long periods of time before becoming like a caged animal and I know you are a proficient researcher."

He scooted closer to the blonde just in case Riza was hiding in the hall. He didn't think she was but one could never be too careful. "They are keeping things from me, Edward. Things I need to know. I can't protect myself or anyone else if I don't have the intell to stay a step ahead. Riza is hiding the paper, she's got the boys sealed shut… Ed, I can't live like this, not after all that's happened. I can't be in the dark and they think they are protecting me, giving me time to heal. It's all well intended but I have to know what's going on so I know how to plan accordingly."

He ran a hand through his hair, "Look, I'm not aiming to be Fuhrer. You said it yourself, the masses won't let me, but I do need to know what I am facing as far as what happened, I need to know how to keep my staff, myself, and even you out of the cauldron. We need cards to play, plans within plans, anything to keep us together and from falling. Do you understand what I mean?"

Ed knew exactly what the General meant but it didn't stop him from being a little shocked to hear such things as, '_we need cards to play, plans to plan, anything to keep us together and from falling._' Also he found it rather curious that everyone was going so damned far out of their way to keep him in the dark. Why were they doing that? Sure the man was wounded physically and emotionally but he was healing and besides, there was a reason he was a General; he could handle it. Still the fact that Roy was so desperate for the news that he was willing to call this a deal, made Edward feel a little strange.

"You want me to be your fly on the wall, specter in the darkness, the dropper of eaves, the seeker of truth, your veritable research 'bitch'… all for the privilege of kicking your ass?" He grinned suddenly, his teeth showing for an instant, "You've got yourself a deal. You get better and I'll get informed. But if that's the case," he stood and stretched loudly, "we'd better forgo any games and just get to bed. That pill's really starting to knock me out as it is, so for tonight," he reached out and playfully mussed up the General's hair – an action he never would have done prior to now – a fairly mischievous expression on his face, "you'll just have to play with yourself."

A soft chuckle resonated in his throat as he walked past the man and headed back to his bedroom. He stopped for a second before the General's room and thought about going inside, but decided that there wasn't any reason for him to linger.

Continuing onward to his room he clenched and unclenched his fist recalling the feel of the man's dark black hair, soft and thick, as it slid through his fingers. He thought about his choice of words at the end and felt a tad bit cruel but also felt that it was justified. More importantly, he felt less awkward about the fact that the General had heard him the other night.

Despite his annoyance that Edward had not only ruffled his hair but insinuated that he 'played' with himself, Roy was near ecstatic to see a bit of the old Edward surfacing. It was a relief and what a comfort it was to know that he had known just what would help bring the young man back and get his mind off death.

However, the proposition wasn't supposed to be made, agreed upon, and then take Edward from the room. Roy wanted, no needed company, and didn't want to be alone. He wasn't so tired that he could fall into a dreamless sleep drug or alcohol induced or not.

Deciding that he wasn't going to let Edward off the hook as far as keeping him company, Roy pushed up from the sofa with a wince and a groan, then hobbled his way toward Ed's room. The door was opened a crack, the light still on, and when Roy peaked through the crack he saw something he wasn't sure he wanted to see. Edward lay in bed grinding his hips into something beneath the covers. It was subtle but pronounced enough that Roy knew what he was doing.

The General knew he should look away but even as he tried to turn, he found he could not. His cheeks flushed as his only eye took in the private display. Ed's blonde locks fanned the pillow. His skin glowed a little in the lamp light. His lips, slightly parted, panted and whisper-moaned in a pouty sort of way. He was beautiful, more beautiful than even some of the prettier girls Roy had managed to snag and seduce into being his for a time. It was wrong, so terribly unprofessional, an invasion of privacy, and worse, watching Ed, wondering what Ed was thinking of, made Roy's nether region awaken and take interest.

A soft gasp escaped him and he swallowed in shock. This had to stop. He couldn't think these things of Ed, couldn't be… He lifted his hand and knocked on the door.

"Edward, you still awake?" There that would give Ed the chance to reject his presence or calm himself enough to give an answer.

He stopped in his slight motions and looked toward the door. It was open! How the hell had he left it open? But then again, when he'd first entered the room he hadn't been thinking about dry humping the bed. As hard as he'd tried, he couldn't shake the oddly stimulating images of Roy making love, which changed suddenly to Roy simply petting himself and looking directly at Edward with a smug expression that seemed to say, 'Well, you did tell me to play with myself.' Ed's hips had moved on their own and he found himself panting and needing release, needing to finish what he'd started in the bathroom and then when he heard Roy's voice calling to him, he felt like he might burst.

"Uh," he started and tried to catch his breath. He was so close… he thought about just finishing up but that was insanity! Roy was right there beyond the door and though that kept him from touching and grinding further, it was also damned exciting. His penis was throbbing and drizzling the bits that spoke of ejaculation and yet he was trapped. "R-Roy… I'm awake." He choked out and sat up in the bed, his legs crossed before him. Pulling his pillow into his lap he covered his hardness. "Did you need something?" He asked and semi hoped that Roy would just ask him through the door, but as soon as he'd spoken, the General waltzed right on in.

"I was just about asleep…" he said as a way to possibly excuse the flush in his cheeks and the wetness at the corners from his eyes. Immediately he worried that the room smelled of precum. He knew for a fact that the front of his pajamas was damp with it and though he'd wiped his hand on the sheets, it still seemed to glisten. "Roy…" he started and then swallowed his words and pressed the pillow down even harder against his groin which cause his eyes to flutter for a moment as a grimace of need swept over his face. His organ, it seemed, was not ready to let go of the promise of an orgasm and he was quite nearly in agony over it.

Roy hated himself the moment he walked in and saw Ed's torment and yet he was still selfish enough to stand firmly to his purpose. But he did have a kind, understanding bone in his body as well.

He wet his lips as Ed pressed the pillow deeper into his lap and liquid amber eyes fluttered like tired butterfly wings. His own cock betrayed him at the sight, at the knowledge of what Edward was doing, and his imagination took him places in that moment… he remembered the night before when Edward called out his name from the confines of the bathroom and he had to wonder if… no, Ed couldn't be thinking of him when he was… It was just absurd, how many times had Edward called him a myriad of degrading names, threatened to kill him…

"Uh," He said trying to shake himself of the images of a heated, angered blonde Alchemist and how before now he'd never noticed exactly how enticing he was in a froth. He shrugged and winced from the wound in his shoulder.

"Listen, I didn't mean for you to go to bed right away…" This was harder than he thought it would be. He began to pout, "I don't think I can sleep and I don't want to be alone." He sounded so pathetic and even as he took a step forward, his eyes fell to Ed's guarded crotch. His own erection was beginning to blossom into the realm of needing attention.

"But if you're busy… Shit!" He breathed, "I really am sorry, Ed. I've got the worst timing. I-I'll talk to you tomorrow." And with that Roy, awkwardly backed from the room. He just didn't have the heart to beg Ed to come keep him company, not after that, not after seeing that Ed really did need to finish and now… He needed privacy himself. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't understand this. Fuck! He needed a damned drink, maybe more than one. He just needed something to knock his ass out and fast.

"…the hell?" Ed growled out and frowned as the man who had so casually ruined everything just waltzed off with a pathetic pout concerning his bad timing. "Roy!" He called after the man and was about to drop the pillow when he realized he was still firm in his groin and not only that, so was Roy! It hadn't really struck him at first, but now that he thought about it, the General was definitely hard. All that was left to discern was why?

"Asshole!" Edward blurted out angrily and didn't even care anymore. He was so confused and angry and for no real reason. "You can't just bust in here and beg for my attention and then scuttle off just because you're having a little problem!" He stamped toward his door and then out into the hall.

"You wanted me, well, now you got me!" He rushed around in front of Roy. Bending just a bit, he wrapped his arms around his middle, trying desperately not to look downward, not to acknowledge that, here they were, both agitated, both lonely, and both erect.

Roy halted abruptly, staring wide-eyed and suddenly very frightened if not utterly embarrassed. He didn't know what to do with himself let alone a young man facing the same bodily issue. And this 'you wanted me, now you got me,' business, what did he mean?

He held up his hands, hands that trembled "Edward, let's take a step back and evaluate. Obviously we both have something personal to take care of that came about at bad timing. Do I want to sit all night alone with my shadows, no, but I can wait. I'll wait until you're and I'm… Then we can talk. Or if you just want to go to bed, I'll manage. It's not a big deal, Ed, really… I'm really sorry. I'll be in the living room if you decide to stay up awhile… Shit."

He couldn't believe he was hearing this. It sounded so obvious and yet so personal and something hit him just then that he couldn't ignore. "You… you were watching me, weren't you?" His eyes narrowed. "You were watching me and you still had the nerve to knock on my door." Anger flared where before had been only lust, need, and a strange softness he'd not felt in years.

"I'll take you up on the deal, General. But when you're well enough to fight, I'm not holding back." He bit and returned in a huff to his door. "And you can eat the damn pie all by yourself, you pervert!" He slammed it shut so loudly that he wouldn't be surprised if Hawkeye were awake now and rushing out of her room to see what the hell was going on.

Returning to bed, he threw himself down and reached over to roughly turn out the lamp light. "Damn him." He groaned painfully and curled onto his side. By now his erection was barely present. He was no longer horny, just depressed. Lonely. He wanted to go out into the living room and take back everything he'd said, but he couldn't. So instead he remained in the darkness of his room, seething until he was exhausted and merely pulled the sheets about his shoulders. Why was Roy watching? Ed chalked it up to male idiocy.

"Al… I wish you were here right now. You'd be embarrassed, but you'd listen." He whispered.

Pervert… the word rang of horrible undeniable truth in Roy's ears and head. It hurt in a way he didn't understand. He was despicable! He didn't know where it had all gone wrong, how he'd destroyed everything. Was that all he was capable of doing anymore? Ed… that kid would never trust him again, Roy knew it deep down and stung so bad, the loss of it, he wanted to cry and drown his guilt and disgusting moment of perversion in a bottle, perhaps two or even three.

Roy felt the full brunt of all his movement during the day, his body screamed vengeful hatred through his nerves, and the pain, with his focus not entirely on the blonde but back on himself, was staggering.

Limping into the living room, Roy found the bottle of brandy and limped toward his bedroom. Agony of the body and heart forced him to stop, painting hard and fast to regain his breath but finally he made it.

As Roy fell into his bed, he let out a soft cry. He rolled and shifted despite the pain until he found some semi-comfortable position and stared at the dark wall, at the shadows, and began to drink. He drank the bottle empty, took another pain pill, which he'd lectured Edward never to do. He was a pervert and a hypocrite now but he really didn't see how much further he could fall. When he was well enough, he'd let Edward pound him into the ground, after all it was what he deserved.

He didn't know when he fell asleep but he did and the nightmares came but they were less vivid somehow, unclear, but frightening none the less.

Riza came with the morning. She woke him and tended to his face, tried to persuade him to eat something, to drink something, but he pushed her away in every way except to take his medication. All his premature motion from the day before, being out of bed when he shouldn't have been, when he should have been resting and allowing his body to heal, left him in worse shape than ever.

When his 1st lieutenant asked him what was wrong, tried to give him a little comfort in her own way, he told her to go, to leave him be, to check on Edward and make sure he ate something. And when she announced that Lieutenant Havoc was there, he gave her orders to tell him to take the package to Ed and leave him alone. He didn't want to be bothered, he didn't want visitors, he just wanted to sleep.


End file.
